The Helsa Files
by ElsaInBlue
Summary: Prompt based series of one-shots (mAU, AU, and canon verse) based on the Helsa pairing. Fluff, drama, smut, romance. Basically everything Helsa.
1. Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Based on a prompt from tumblr. Elsa invites Hans to watch her pleasure herself but he thinks he can do better. NSFW.**

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A late night of catching up on work in his home office was drawing to a close. Hans raised his hands in the air and groaned into a cat-like stretch as his back arched against the plush leather desk chair. Bleary eyed and every so happy to be done with his spreadsheets, Hans shut down his computer and shuffled down the hallway to the bedroom, where he guessed Elsa was already asleep. It was nearly midnight and she hardly ever waited for him past eleven, since she always had to get up early herself the next morning.

Flicking the lights off as he passed each switch, Hans heard a muffled noise echoing down the hallway, and if his ears weren't deceiving him, it sounded an awful lot like his precious wife keening in the throes of passion.

Curious and deeply intrigued, a wicked grin swept across Hans' well sculpted features a he crept closer to the bedroom, knowing all too well what awaited him on the other side of the door, now that her cries were getting louder and more desperate.

Sure enough, the door swung open and there was Elsa, buck naked with her eyes screwed shut and her hand doing the most lascivious things between her legs. Her back arched into the glow of the dimly lit room, blushed nipples peaked with arousal and bottom lip caught between her teeth as she tried to fight the urge to cry out even louder.

"Oh. Sorry, baby. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm just going to-"

"Stay," Elsa rapsed, strangled by the shallow gasps for air as the hand continued its circular path.

"Stay?" Hans repeated, russet brow arching with intrigue, stepping inside the room and closed the door behind him. His eyes tried to stay focused on Elsa's angelic face but he could already see how wet she was down below. Her slick core was glistening with that sweet nectar that always made his mouth water.

"Stay," she repeated, voice low and husky like a thick rolling fog. "Stay and watch me finish."

Hans salaciously licked his lips before grinning with delight and taking a seat in their wing chair at the corner of the room, providing a perfect view of the finger now sliding into his wife's soaking sex.

Comfortable, except for the growing erection in his pants, Hans' emerald eyes darkened and narrowed in on Elsa, impossibly breathtaking as her willowy legs parted a little wider for his viewing pleasure. One finger methodically slipped in and out of her opening, occasionally teasing the sodden folds with long, purposeful strokes, while her other hand tended to the swollen nub swelling just above.

Hans' hips bucked ever so slightly, a natural reaction whenever he saw her like this, so vulnerably yet entirely uninhibited. The sexiest thing of all was how she locked eyes with him, crystal blue irises never straying even once from Hans' lustful gaze. Elsa bit her lip harder, pricking the skin, and dragged her hand up to squeeze one of her lusciously full breasts, taking care to pinch and roll the nipple because she loved how it teased the hell out of Hans. She knew he'd want that to be his hand, possessing her. _Claiming_ her. Watching her ravish herself was hot and all but he it was killing him to have to restrain himself to the confines of the chair. He wanted to shuck his pants and finish her off himself but he'd let her warm herself up first.

Hans could tell her climax was nearing because he heard Elsa make her classic string of high-pitched cries, rising to a crescendo as her eyes lidded shut and head whipped back against the pillow; her body unleashing a satisfying, blood-rushing orgasm that had her jerking helplessly into her hand. Hans' pants were now terribly constricting, growing faster by the minute as he listened to Elsa gasp for those sweet breaths of air with a look of pure ecstasy etched in her face.

When she came down from her high, she proudly curled up to sitting, reams of gold-white hair spilling over her back and shoulders, and lightly chuckled. "Enjoy the show, sweetheart?" Her tantalizing voice dripping with gratification.

"That was… _nice_," sounding liked he'd been entertained but disappointed in a way.

A from tugged at her lips. "_Nice?_" expecting a little more than that. She'd put on show for him after all.

Hans bellowed a laugh and moved out of the chair, stalking towards the bed like a hunter in the forest. Eyes inky black with hungry desire, making Elsa instantly feel… _naked._

"That was nice. But I can make you _scream_." Elsa wasn't sure if that was a challenge or a threat, but by the way it made her body spark like a lit fuse, flickering with heat and prickling her skin, she was dying to find out.

"Prove it," she husked with a taunting smirk, leaning back onto her elbows and spreading her legs as wide as they would go.

Enlivened by the beautiful blonde's untamed boldness, rivaled only by that of his own, Hans shed his clothes and straddled over Elsa. Her chest heaved in anticipation as he placed his hands under her arms and lifted her further up onto the pillows with a gentle toss.

"Get comfortable, baby. You're about to blow your vocal cords."

Before Elsa could register what he's said, Hans crouched down and buried himself into her core, still hot and dripping from her first orgasm. Firm lips kissed and worshiped the taste of heavenly ambrosia, honey-sweet with a kick of zest that always kept him coming back for more. A flurry of ragged moans was already flying from her throat as Elsa canted steadily into his voracious mouth, where he feasted on her like a prisoner savoring his last meal before his imminent death. His tongue prodded and swirled within her, eliciting tiny cries and throaty whimpers for more as he flicked and suckled her into an enraptured brume.

Elsa wrapped her legs around Hans and rested them on his muscular back, pulling him closer as she threaded her slender fingers into his auburn locks. Mewls and moans bled into an aria of Hans' name, still not a scream but he was well on his way to accomplishing his goal. Blood rushed in from every extremity of her body, pooling and radiating into a euphoric nebula of unparalleled bliss. He watched mirthfully as a dark pink flush scaled the heights of her torso and tickled the pale freckles of her cheeks. Lips deluged in scorching hot crimson wrapped around the melodic syllables of his name, breathy and light as it lofted into the space above them.

_Hans… Hans… Ohhhh, Hans…_

_Excellent, _he chuckled to himself. She was exactly where he wanted her, desperate and on the verge of release. But if she thought he was going to finish her off like this -and _oh, _how he would have loved to- she was dead wrong.

Hans took one last lingering suck of Elsa's clit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"Roll over, baby. Hands and knees," he said firmly but sweetly and lightly swatted her tight rear as she lifted herself into position. Elsa was panting rapidly, heart racing furiously as she felt Hans' legs creep between her own, nudging hers further out to the side as his hands wrapped around her hips and guided her back to feel just how hard she'd made him.

"You didn't think that was all I had in mind, did you?" Hans smirked and lubed himself up. He was throbbing and painfully engorged, impatient to to sink to the the hilt already.

"N-no!" Elsa cried and felt Hans' glide into her, stretching her gorgeously wide and achingly deep. "_Fuck!_" Still not the scream he was going for, but it made him beam all the same.

Hans leaned back let his thrusting find a solid rhythm, pulling Elsa back into him as her ass bounced against his hips, unleashing the most unbelievable sounds. He rutted into her a bit more, working her up, hot and sticky as a trail of sweat beaded down the ridges of his masterfully toned abs. The pleasure was almost intolerable for Elsa, so overwhelming that she closed her eyes and let her mouth hang open to sing for him, interweaving sharp gasps and guttural cries of pure elation. He filled her so beautifully and, in this position, was able to go nice and deep, hitting all the right spots and controlling the pace with his hands planted on her hips. She was wailing and thoroughly wrecked beneath him, ripe and ready for the picking.

Hans draped himself over Elsa's back and kissed the slope of her porcelain neck, opened mouth and searing hot. A nip to the angle where her neck met her shoulder brought out the most wonderful yelp. Greedy hand robed the tapered plane of her stomach and, trembling under his touch as he came caresses her breasts. Her skin electrified at the feel of his skilled hands dragging over her sensitive nipples, his name spilling from his lips like plea for mercy.

"You were great, baby girl. But it's time you _really_ got off." Hans placed one last smoldering kiss to the back of her ear, lowered her hand, and began to worry that tender little bud hidden between her moist lips.

"Mmmm, yeah. So wet baby," he whispered into her ear. The sound of his voice made her clenched tight around him. He was so strong and powerful, controlling the very pleasure she yearned to be unleashed upon her. She loved it when he was like this, unabashed and mischieviously naughty.

Hans hurried his thrusts, about ready to explode himself, driving himself harder and faster into her as Elsa braced one hand flat against the headboard. All at once, every tingle of pleasure in her body pulled tight like a rip cord, coiling and building with such enormous strength, before it burst out in every direction, erupting into dazzling undulations and the most primal scream ripped from Elsa's throat.

"HAAAAAANS! AAAAAAHHHH! HAAAANS!"

Her back violently arched, letting the pleasure roll over her like an endless tide relentlessly pounding against the shore.

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Hans let out a deep, throaty groan that reverberated off the ceiling, and released into his wilting wife. Sated and completely fucked out, they both collapsed on the bed, laying side-by-side, fighting to catch their breath.

"I told you I could make you scream," Hans gloated playfully. Elsa let her head fall to meet his eyes glinting with triumph.

"You were right," she admitted, hand lazily resting on her chest as her heart pounded just below. "No one can ever make me scream like you do." Elsa rolled Hans onto his back and swung her leg over to sit on his hips. Her smiled grew dark, eyes pooling with a want that made his brows quirk in surprise. "Do it again."

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**If you're looking for more Helsa besides this, I also have a canon multichapter fic called Betrothal that's currently in progress but updates regularly.**


	2. Mine

****Elsa is auctioned off at her sorority's date night and Hans intends to place a winning bid on the woman he's had his sights set on for the past three years.****

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There she was. Elsa Everstad. The sassy blonde he'd been pining after since he first laid eyes on her the beginning of senior year. To him, she was the ultimate conquest. She'd turned him down the first time he'd asked her out and after several months of getting nowhere, he settled for her younger sister Anna. Now that he'd moved on from the redheaded freshman, he was ready to stake his claim. Not only was she the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life but they were both president of their respective sorority and fraternity, a match he figured was meant to be.

He spied Elsa pursuing the psychology section of the bookstore, her finger pressed to her lips as she scanned the shelves in search of a book on psychoanalytic theory. Hans strode up to her, swagger in his every step until he was just behind her, peering over her shoulder.

"Hello Elsa." The blonde jumped and whipped her head around to find Hans seductively smiling at her.

"Oh, Hans. You startled me." A smile crept across his face as he flashed his best debonair look.

"I figured it was only fair since you took my breath away once I saw you over here from across the store." Elsa rolled her eyes and turned back to the bookshelf and continued her search.

"Hans Westergard. You never change do you? What is it you want this time?" she asked hesitantly.

"The same thing I've only ever asked of you Elsa. It's senior year and Valentine's Day is coming up. I would love nothing more than to sweep you off your feet and treat you like the queen you are."

She wanted to ignore him. She wished she could but there was something about Hans that resonated within her. The way he spoke, his words oozing confidence. It was becoming increasingly difficult to heed the warnings of her sister. Anna had cautioned Elsa about his smooth talk and made her vow never to get involved with him. She always wanted what she couldn't have. Being forbidden to entertain the idea of Hans only made her want him even more.

"Hans, even if I wanted to I'm busy." She dismissed him with a wave of her delicate hand, desperately trying to control her urge to surrender to his kindness.

"Oh and who might the lucky man be?" Hans seriously doubted she had any plans. Elsa hadn't dated anyone seriously in the past three years. Everyone knew she was a slave to her academics and sorority work.

"I don't know yet," she said hesitantly.

"Wait, do you have some kind of blind date on Valentine's Day or something? " His words were dripping with sarcasm.

"No. My sorority is hosting a date auction for charity tomorrow night. The winning bid gets a date on Valentine's day with the girl they bid on. All the girls are participating and, as president, I'm obligated to be auctioned off." She turned to face him fully, her back pressed against the bookshelf as her cobalt eyes looked deep with his. "But if you'd like you could come. I'd love to see you put your money where your mouth is." The side of her mouth coiled into a smile. "Although I should warn you, Kristoff Bjorgman has made it pretty clear that he's not leaving without a winning bid one me." She'd all but surrendered to her inner most desires. Teasing Hans gave her such pleasure. To hell with Anna's warnings.

"You seriously think I would be out bided by that poor jock? I think you underestimate me Elsa." He moved closer to her as the cat and mouse game continued, brushing a strand of her flaxen hair away from her face. The heat between them was noticeably increasing. Elsa's breath became shallow and Hans couldn't help but notice her chest was slightly heaving.

"Well I guess we'll have to wait and see." She looked Hans up and down and flashed a smirk out the corner of her eyes as she pried herself away from the bookshelf. "Bye Hans." He watched her walk away as her hips swayed with each step, the scent of her sweet perfume lingering behind.

The following night Hans arrived at Delta Phi Omega. The place was crawling with good looking frat boys like Hans. They gathered around as the auction began and Hans spied Kristoff nearby with his fellow football possy.

"The next lady up for auction this evening is none other than our president, Elsa Everstad."

His heart stopped for a brief moment as he watched Elsa strut across the stage in a short tight black dress with a small slit up her right thigh. The top of the dress was cut dangerously low, showing off her perfect porcelain skin that Hans wished to lay wet kisses on in the near future. The sight of her caused him to bite his lip and swallow back a groan.

"We'll start the bid at one hundred dollars."

Hans let Bjorgman have the first bid, not wanting to seem overly anxious. His pockets were deep and he wasn't leaving a loser.

Another man from across the room shouted the next bid at five hundred dollars. Hans kept his cool and watched the scene unfold as several men got in a bidding war, leaving Bjorgman no choice but to concede. Elsa's eyes were darting back and forth at various men vying for her company. Hans ignored the frenzy and let his eyes creep up Elsa's perfectly slender legs, enjoying the sight of the goddess before him. Her platinum blonde hair flowed around her body like a heavenly waterfall of gold.

Finally the bidding started to die down as the last bid stood at $1,300.

"Thirteen-hundred going once. Thirteen hundred going twice." The auctioneer glanced around the room for anymore takers.

"Five thousand dollars," Hans bolstered with his arms crossed and chin held high.

A gasp fell upon the room. Elsa's eyes grew wide as she tried to locate where the voice had come from. Once she spotted him, her eyes grew dark and they simultaneously grinned at each other.

"If there are no other bids…sold, to Hans Westergard in the back of the room."

Elsa gracefully made her way off the stage and walked straight through the crowd towards Hans.

"Well Hans, it looks like you finally got what you wanted." He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her flush up against him. He placed a hand behind her head, entangling his fingers into her soft waves of hair and placed a gentle but hungry kiss on Elsa's crimson lips.

"Mine." He said, moving his hand to the small of her back and pulling her in tighter as she sank into his arms. "You're all mine."

Elsa brushed her lips against Hans' and whispered. "All yours."


	3. Prisoner

**One shot for Iceburns Week Day 7 (Prisoner)- Elsa and Hans are newlyweds. Tired of her husband continually coming home late Elsa decides to shed her good girl image for one night to teach Hans a lesson while spicing up their marriage in the process.**

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Life at the Westergard house was becoming somewhat routine these days. A month after their wedding Hans and Elsa had settled into their new home and new roles as husband and wife. With the stress of the wedding far behind them, Elsa decide it was time to open up some of the more adult gifts she'd received at her bridal shower, most of them from none other than her sister Anna, and turn up the heat in the bedroom. She was getting tired of the same old routine of go to work, come home, eat dinner, and have some quick sex before having to go sleep and start the whole thing all over again. No, she was done with that. She was done being the good girl people had always made her out to be. She was going to show Hans that she could be in control for once. She wanted to show him, now that she was Mrs. Westergard, that she could be confident and sexy and do things he'd never thought she'd allow herself to do.

Hans was due home any minute, late from work as usual, and Elsa was ready to put her plan into action.

"Hi baby," Hans said as he walked through the front door soaking wet from the rain that had been pouring outside.

He started to set his briefcase down when his eyes shot open at the site of what his new bride was wearing.

"What are you wearing?" He eyed Elsa's long black trench coat that was tied at the waist. Her long platinum blonde hair was swept back into a perfectly tight bun and she was donning a pair of dark red stilettos.

"You're late," she replied, completely dismissing his question.

"I'm sorry. I had to go through a huge stack of depositions for Friday's hearing." He smiled at her, still puzzled as to what she was up to.

"Well, I don't think you have any other choice but to make it up to me." She slowly walked closer to him and Hans was distracted by one of Elsa's perfectly sculpted legs peeking out through her coat as she moved. "Tonight we're playing by my rules." She broke character for a brief second and winked at him with a playful smile.

Catching on quickly Hans decided to indulge his wife.

"Oh and what is it that you have in mind tonight my love?" He set his things down and began to take off his jacket.

"Your continued tardiness has left me with no other choice but to charge you with your crime and take you as my prisoner." Her voice was a mix of sultry and stern_._

_Oh God yes, we're role playing and she's going to dominate me_. Hans thought to himself.

Elsa brought her lips up to Hans' so that he could feel her warm breath as she spoke.

"As my prisoner, you need to shed your civilian clothing and take a seat over there. You may keep your underwear on." She pointed to one of their dining room chairs sitting in the middle of the living room.

"Yes warden." Hans replied as submissively as he could allow himself to be.

"No, not _warden_. You may address me as _your majesty_. Really Hans, do I look like I'd be a _warden_?" She dropped her voice to a whisper and broke character for the second time. This wasn't going to work if Hans kept trying to add to the story she had going.

"Yes your majesty." He knelt on one knee and took her hand, kissing it just above the knuckle.

"That's_ better_. Now get your clothes off and go sit down."

Hans was so turned on he could barely conceal his grin as he began to take off his shirt and pants. When he was finally down to his black boxer briefs, Elsa lead him to the chair and stood behind him. She ran her hands down his chest and then slowly drug them up his sculpted pectorals, the feeling of her fingernails grazing him made Hans groan with delight.

Elsa giggled at how easily Hans was succumbing to her new found confidence.

"Hands behind you please." Hans did as he was told and felt the icy chill of what he guessed were handcuffs being placed around his wrists.

"You have keys to this right because I have to be in court tomorrow at nine." He turned around so that she could see his face and make sure she knew he was serious.

"They're on the kitchen counter." She rolled her eyes and moved so that she was standing in front of Hans. "I can't have my prisoner trying to escape now can I?"

She broke the cold demeanor she'd been playing up until this point and smirked at Hans, taking a few steps back. Her hand reached up to pull out a pin from her hair, releasing her gorgeous locks as they cascaded down her back. She then wrapped her hands around the straps of her jacket and began to slowly untie them. Hans was loving where this was going and was like a kid on Christmas morning who was dying to unwrap his gift. He licked his lips and watched her move at a painstakingly slow pace.

Finally she untied the jacket and took it off in one quick motion, letting it fall around her.

"Oh my God." Hans didn't know if he was allowed to speak or not but there was no way he could have held that back. He couldn't take his eyes off the smoking hot black lace bustier with matching stockings that were clipped to Elsa's garter belt. The black lace made her milky white skin stand out even more than usual.

Hans instinctively went to reach out for her and he was crudely reminded of the handcuffs that were restricting his movement. Elsa smiled devilishly at her husband and bit her bottom lip as she mussed her hair, enjoying the torture she was inflicting upon him. She'd gone this far to please him, Hans figured the least he could do was play along if he couldn't touch.

"I must say that her majesty looks particularly ravishing in her royal _attire_ this evening. Is there nothing I might to do win her forgiveness for the crime I've committed?" Elsa was a little taken back by the thought Hans had put into his little statement. He was really committing to his role.

"I might be able to negotiate a truce later but for now…I plan to have my way with you." The smug little expression Hans had on his face quickly fell away and he practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor. Elsa had always been great in bed but she'd never been this straight forward or domineering before. And he was loving every minute of it.

His heart began to race and she made her way over to him, pushing his knees aside and standing between his legs. She ran her hands through his still damp hair at the back of his head and clutched it in her hand, pulling his head back to receive a soft opened mouth kiss.

"Your majesty, you taste divine." Elsa replied by tightening her grip on the hair at the back of his head and kissed him more firmly this time, breaking to pull his bottom lip back with her teeth before swiping her tongue over the marks left behind. Hans groaned at the sensation of the pain and pleasure coursing through him. She began to lay a trail of kiss down his neck, sighing and moaning against his hot skin. What little clothing Hans had on was quickly becoming constricting.

The idea of handcuffs was arousing at first but they had become downright frustrating to him now.

Elsa stood back up and placed a hand on the side of Hans' face, running a slender finger over his lips as she straddled him and sat on his lap. They locked eyes. Elsa's were burning with a fire Hans had never seen before.

Suddenly Elsa heard a rustling sound and before she could see what it was she felt Hans' firm hands grab her ass, yelping upon contact.

"Wait, how..?" Hans laugh was almost evil.

"I think her majesty forgot that there's a safety release on these handcuffs." Before she could reply Hans lifted her up onto him and laid her down on the nearby dining table. The frustration he'd felt was now being unleashed all over her body. Hans was running his hands up and down everywhere while kissing down her stomach, perfectly sculpted muscles jumped below translucent skin with the touch of his lips.

The charade was up, they'd both pulled out of the role play .

"Mmmm…oh God, this outfit. Where the hell did you find this?" Hans was talking between kisses and running a hand up where her stocking connected to the garter belt.

"My sister bought it for me, for my shower." They were both panting at this point and Elsa was finding it difficult to even speak.

"Remind me to thank her next time we see her. Damn." Hans fumbled with the clasps of the bustier and was about ready to rip it off. He'd had enough foreplay and was ready to have his way with her…now! "How the hell do you get his off?" Elsa couldn't help but laugh at him as he frantically tugged at the unrelenting garment.

"I'll take it off but you have to take me to the bedroom first. I'm not doing it on this rock hard table." Interesting choice of words Hans thought as he scooped her up and carried his wife into the bedroom to continue their night of passion.


	4. Sublimation

_AN: Aftering seeing Wild and listening to Talking Body by Tove Lo, this little idea popped into my head. I don't think this requires a warning but it takes a page from the film where Elsa is grieving the loss of her parents, but turns to sex to help her cope (that last part is not from the film c:). That is, until she meets Hans. NSFW ahead. I also bumped Elsa's age up by a year. Thank you to my beta Let-it-geaux._

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She's seen him around the office a few times. Eleven to be exact. Even though Elsa tells herself she's not counting. That auburn hair and dashing smile are extremely hard to forget. Every time she catches a glimpse of him passing through the hallways, possessing a regalness in his stoic gait, she finds herself lost in revere over the mysterious man from the Westergard Corp.

Hans has noticed the alluring blonde watching him out of the corner of his eye, surprised to find himself catching her curiously watching him as he waits for his coffee to finish dispensing in the refreshment lounge. Elsa has always been somewhat reclusive but now that Hans is working on a deal with Arendelle Enterprises, he is graced by her presence more and more on the highly exclusive forty-fourth floor. The last time their eyes met, she flashed him a hint of the most gorgeous smile that stuck with him for days.

Deciding she should end this game of eye glances and missed opportunities, she waltzes, because when Elsa walks she moves with all the grace of a dancer, over to the tall redheaded man with a stir pinched between his fingers as he swirls his cream into his coffee; tapping it twice on the rim before tossing it in the trash.

"You must be Hans Westergard," she says politely, getting Hans to whip his head around and quickly finish swallowing his sip of piping hot coffee so that he can reply.

"I am," recovering nicely from the coffee burn throbbing on this tongue. "How did you know that?"

Elsa's coy smile stretches across her radiant face as she uncrosses her arms and moves closer to Hans and his perfectly tailored suit. It fits so incredibly well that she can see the outline of his chiseled body and broad chest, making it just tad hard to concentrate on her introduction.

"It's my job to know. Or at least, it is now. I'm Elsa," holding out her delicate hand to shake his. "Elsa Arendelle."

His eyes grow wide at the name, recognizing that he's just met the soon-to-be-CEO of Arendelle Enterprises. That thought quickly pushes to the back of his mind because whoever she is, she has the most shocking ice blue eyes he's ever seen.

"Elsa," he repeats fondly, shaking and reluctantly releasing her hand. "Lovely to finally to meet you. I admit I've been intrigued by you for the last few weeks."

A giggle slips from between her lips. "Yes. I've caught you staring a few times."

Hans' face drops, worrying that he's come on too strong and now looks like a creeper. "Oh. I-I" he stammers, fumbling for a plausible excuse.

The blonde giggles again and the sound is like a song he knows is going to get stuck in his head for weeks. "It's okay," she says, easing his nerves. "I only noticed because I was staring back at you. This suit is hard to miss," flicking the collar flirtatiously. _Playfully._ Not too outwardly forward with her intensions.

He takes a moment to study her and, although she's beautiful beyond words, she seems to be holding something back. Her eyes have the slightest ring of grey around them and she's yawned about three times already since entering the room. Perhaps the stresses of taking on such a huge company are beginning to tax her.

"Would you like some coffee?" He asks and grabs a cup from the stack next to the machine.

"No, thank you," Affably waving her hand. "I think three's my limit for the day." There's an awkward moment of silence and Hans uses the rising tension to springboard his courage.

"What about dinner?" Bright eyes flashing up to him with intrigue. "I'd love to take you out sometime."

Elsa's cheeks bloom wildly with color, smiling shyly through her fanning lashes. Hans fits the bill. Handsome, built, gallant, and sweet, with just the right amount of sexual prowess to percolate her interest and make her breathing pick up so quickly that she feels lightheaded just standing this close to him.

"You free tonight?" Elsa asks, throwing Hans off guard. Of course he's free to tonight, but anything he would have had planned is dust in the wind now.

"I'm free," He replies suavely, trying not to sound overly anxious even though he's jumping for joy on the inside. "Any kind of food in particular you have in mind or do you like surprises?" She likes that he's so flexible.

"Maybe something more low key." She bites her lower lip, and he can tell she has something in mind but is bound by her shyness. "Can I come over after work, and then maybe decide on something to do then?" It's a strange request, but he doesn't give it a second thought.

"Absolutely."

Hans gives her the address and gets her number in return. _Elsa_. He can't stop saying her name to himself.

"I get out of my last meeting at five, and I can come by around then."

He nods and smiles back warmly. "I look forward to it."

"See you then," Resting her hand briefly on his, just to feel his warmth, before she's gone, and Hans' coffee is finally cool enough to drink without doing permanent damage.

_A date with Elsa._

* * *

The doorbell rings just after six, chimes echoing through the hallways of the spacious home as Hans stops to check himself in the mirror one last time. He strides confidently up to the door and peers out through the peephole, smiling to himself when he sees Elsa nervously looking off to one side and nibbling on her lower lip like she's got first date jitters. It's entirely too adorable.

"Hi. Please, come in," He greets warmly as he opens the door and lets Elsa come inside. Hans' high-rise condo is extremely nice, noting the excellent taste in decor he has, as everything is very orderly but seems homely at the same time.

A list of restaurants within walking distance starts filling through Hans' head at warp speed, trying to think of the best place to take a girl as lovely Elsa, because she's still dressed in her work clothes, and he gathers she probably hasn't even had dinner. And he just can't have that because there's something about her that stirs the gentleman within him to not just cater to her every want and need, but to also sweep her off her feet with grand romantic gestures. Anyone who can get his heart pumping with just the bat of her lashes and also have the sweetest personality to go with her insanely good looks deserves that much from him.

She's scanning the titles of the books on his shelf as he shows her around, trying to get a better sense of what kind of person Hans is away from the bureaucratic world that is the office. Travel, history, and a copy of _Walden_ by Henry David Thoreau sandwiched between John Grisham and Stephen King captures her interest. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she thinks about what an exceptionally good conversationalist he must be. It's an eclipse of a smile, gone as soon as soon as it came, when that all-too-familiar dark cloud looms back over her, and she paces around the room with the grace of a thoroughbred before circling herself back to Hans.

"You must be starving," He says. "I'd love to take you out, but I insist that it's ladies choice. Anywhere you'd like." He'd been daydreaming all afternoon about this date with Elsa. How he'd spend the night wooing her and finally get to lift the veil off this mysterious blonde he saw lurking about the office. He's thrilled to pieces until he sees her fighting a frown, losing the battle as it overtakes her mouth, and he notices those striking blue eyes that make him weak in the knees, becoming glossy, like she's about to cry but can't possibly understand why.

She doesn't respond to his dinner offer and takes a few more steps until she's almost pressed up against him, lips dangerously close to his as she tilts her chin up towards his face. "I came here because I want to sleep with you."

There's a pause. A long pause, and his smile is completely gone now as Hans' face twists in confusion, pulling back from her. He can't deny the piece of himself that simultaneously breaks from despair and screams for joy at her strange confession. Because sleeping with Elsa is something he's definitely thought about. He'd be lying if he denied the idea hadn't crossed his mind. And while he's had plenty of one-night stands before, this isn't what he had in mind with her at all. This woman is more than just an easy lay. She's intelligent and beautiful and, without even trying, he could instantly see himself with her years from now, moving in together. Maybe even marrying her one day. Elsa is the kind of girl you thank your lucky stars for and fall over yourself like a lovesick buffoon to make happy. _Sleep with you._ It keeps bouncing around his head like a ricocheting bullet, mouth dropping open to finally say something to the patiently waiting blonde before him who is growing more nervous by the minute.

"I don't know if I've given you the wrong idea, but I was actually hoping to treat you to a nice time before we jumped into any of that. And not until further down the road. I don't want to just sleep with you. I was serious when I said I wanted to get to know you better."

"You don't want to know me," She cuts back quickly, voice dark and morose. "I don't normally do this," gesturing around her herself. "I'm only nineteen. I don't _sleep_ around. I'd only been with two other guys before any of this ever happened."

And then the pieces fall into place.

"Before what happened?" He asks gently.

"Don't you read the papers?" She counters, trying not to sound superficial.

"I do. But I want to hear it from you."

Elsa draws in a long contemplative breath that shakes when she exhales. She's never said it out loud before, not even to herself. So it's understandable that her glossy bottom lip is quivering, and she's having a hard time keeping her eyes focused on any one thing except Hans.

"Before…" She hesitates, throat bobbing from the rouse of emotions bubbling up from within her. "Before my parents died. Last summer." Eyelids dusted with a soft shade of violet close, shaking her head at her actions but refusing to abandon them. "I'm only a sophomore and have two short years before I take over this massive corporation that my father left me. I'm so terrified about that kind of responsibility, but I can't even focus on it because I'm so overwhelmed by the loss of _both_ of my parents. Whom I loved. _Dearly_. And I have no one. I've been abroad for so many years that I have literally no relationship with my sister. And she's grieving too and doesn't need me making things worse by dumping my problems on her. I'm surrounded by advisors, whose only objective is to make sure I'm not a liability to the company and can assume the role of CEO when the time comes. Nothing more."

Hans is rendered speechless by her words, heart filling with nothing but compassion as he watches a single tear roll down her cheek and considers her more seriously. She's grief-stricken.

"I wouldn't ask just anyone this," Face brightening for the first time since she's entered his place. She rests a hand on his arm, caressing the fine muscle as her expression softens. "You've been stealing my attention for weeks now. You're _very_ attractive. And if I wasn't so screwed up right now, I could really see myself loving you. _Being _with you." A beat passes where they both know that feeling is tragically mutual. "But I just need someone to fuck me. Make me _feel_ something. _Anything_ besides this terrible pain that's cutting me up from the inside out."

Hans' breath is calm as he gazes into her eyes, melancholic and pleading as they never break away from his. He knows this pain she speaks of. Not exactly in the same way, but his life hasn't always been easy either. _Alone_ is a place he knows all too well. He may have had a completely different idea of how this night was going to unfold, but the worst thing he thinks he could do is turn her down when she's so raw and vulnerable, teetering impatiently in front of him in her chic black heels. Denying her is an impossibility anyway because, if anything, her extremely sad story has helped him see a long forgotten part of himself in her, a reflection that only makes him fall in love with her a little more than he even bargained to. He can't hear the part of himself that knows this might not be the best idea, not over the sound of a whispered _please_.

He's not going to say no, not with how desperately she's looking at him. This isn't a one-night stand. She's not one of those girls who keeps your number in her phone simply for a good time on Friday night. This is a woman, a girl even, who's suffered life's cruel blow at much too young an age. Friday nights for her are probably spent at school, studying away in some cathedral-like library or at home watching a documentary. She's a girl in pain trying to cope the only way she's figured out how. No one can understand that more than Hans.

His forefinger comes to rest under her jaw, thumb pressed lightly against her chin as he pulls her in and kisses her tenderly, lips vowing to do anything and everything she wishes.

The kiss is an invitation Elsa fully accepts, and she surges towards the promise of her desired escape from the unbearable reality and grief that's been corroding her life. She kisses him back, open-mouthed and hard, much more passionately than she intends to. She's a runaway train of want and need right now, kissing him more fervently as she inches his shirt up his well-defined stomach.

Hans gets that she's trying to set the pace, eager to skip to the intimate part of the evening, but he wants to lead. He wants to take care of her, and so he pulls the rest of the shirt off himself and peels her blazer off her narrow shoulders.

Clothes begin to come off like this is now some sort of sultry business deal. But no matter how hard either one of them tries to stay emotionally detached, they both secretly know it's not going to be possible.

Hans' shirt is crumpled up on floor, and he's already working the buttons of Elsa's colorful purple blouse as she shakes out her braid, both knowing the crackle of energy between them is too much to ignore. He shimmies her black work skirt down her legs before hoisting her up so that she can wrap her legs around his waist and be carried off to bed.

Even though this is meant to be a physical act, Hans is going to pour everything he has into it for her. Every ounce of himself, devoted entirely to her. She is young and so achingly tragic. She doesn't deserve any of the things that have happened to her, so he will love her. She asked him to fuck her but he is intent on something so much more.

Hans gently tosses Elsa back onto his bed. Stalks of platinum hair splatter out across the pillows as he carefully spreads open her blouse and runs his hands over her bra-covered breasts and pale slender stomach, watching as she writhes and heaves underneath his touch. Warmth blazes across her body like lightning, and she can feel him bringing her to life, snatching her from the fog of bereavement she's been sentenced to. His fingertips make each stretch of skin he grazes them over prickle with excitement, loving her and comforting her with every beat of his heart. A sensation that's going to be burned in her memory quite possibly forever.

They didn't establish any rules for this, so he doesn't hesitate to kiss her again after unclasping her bra and laying himself over her, blanketing her from the cruelty of the world as their bare bodies meet skin to skin; painted together like oils across a blank canvas. Feeling a profound connection as if they've been lovers for years rather than minutes

Her lips welcome him back, sighing contently as soon as her hands wander down the slope of his spine and rise over his firm backside. A thought that he could be hers lances her fragile heart. Because she won't let it happen. Not like this. But the idea lingers in her mind as Hans hitches her legs around his hips and nestles himself between them.

The world begins to slip away, giving herself up to the rush of arousal swirling through her veins. It's not until he's fully inside her that she lets go completely, throwing back her head and releasing a deep satisfying moan, as if she's been counting down the minutes for this relief to rescue her from her misery. A life raft pulling her to safety in the midst of a reckless storm as he joins their bodies together. In the beginning, he feels like he is doing her a favor, but a heaviness weighs down on him. Guilt. Remorse. Because his heart is already a million miles ahead of him.

This isn't the first time Elsa's slept with a man under these conditions. She's been doing so for several months, now that school has started again. And normally she doesn't bother to remember their names or even open her eyes, but they're locked on Hans' at the moment, fierce sky blue finding solace in earthly green as she cries out his name between their crashing lips. Whatever this was supposed to be or whatever either of them thought it was going to be, it's fiery hot and undeniably sexy. She _wants_ him, not just his body, as she's planned, and he's determined to be her refuge.

Hans dips his head low to bathe her slender neck with his lips and tongue, tinted windows next to them fogging over from the sultriness of their lovemaking. Elsa breaks her gaze and tilts her head to catch a view of them in the blurred reflection. They're breathtaking together, watching as his muscular body covers and moves atop her with the ease of well-crafted piston, sparking and combusting as he repeatedly thrusts into her.

She feels equally amazing, the best sex Hans can remember, but notices things like the ghostly white freckles across the apples of her cheeks, flushed and glowing red, and the feather-light hair just next to her ear. All things that make him fall that much harder for her.

When she comes, Elsa exhales the weight of the world. This is her drug. It masks the pain, and he lets her soak up every ounce of bliss in the exquisite moment. He can't hold back any longer and comes just after her. She doesn't know what to expect when they finish because Elsa's not exactly thinking at the moment, but she's pleasantly surprised when he kisses her forehead and tip of her nose, like a lover or a boyfriend would.

She finds her way to the restroom, gathering her clothes along the way, as Hans takes the opportunity to flop back onto the mattress and reflect back on everything with his hands folded behind his head. He feels like he should be happy, but he can't enjoy the post-cotial euphoria for some reason. Before he has the chance to ruminate on it for too long, Elsa emerges from the bathroom, dressed again in her work clothes with her hair perfectly rebraided.

"I have to go," She says simply, small voice filled with regret over having to leave like this, and leans over to kiss him one last time.

Heartbroken, Hans nods and lets her go. Forcing her to stay is probably something she can't handle, but he misses her before she's even reached the door. She's barely stepped into the elevator before he slips his underwear back on and goes to the window to wait for her to exit the building. It's dark outside, stars twinkling above the city skyline in a blanket of ebony, but he doesn't miss that striking blonde hair when she finally appears on the sidewalk. She shuffles to the curb and tilts her head up to the sky, eyes closed and making Hans wonder if she's thinking about her parents. And she must have been because her face shatters when she brings it into her hands. What they did wasn't a mistake, but it isn't the answer either.

She hates herself. Hates what she's become. What she's been forced to become. Tears flow endlessly as she tells herself she'll never be happy. If she can't even bring herself to properly date someone as wonderful and as decent as Hans, and does _this_ with him instead, because she's too numb to feeling anything anymore, she's doomed to spend the rest of her life alone.

* * *

Elsa comes over the next night, and the next. And a few days after that. Until soon there is hardly more than a handful of words exchanged between the two of them before Elsa is spayed out naked on his bed and waiting for him to ease her pain. They are straight up fucking now, the magic of that first night dwindling with each additional tryst. But Hans isn't going to be able to do this much longer. Because when he originally asked Elsa if she wanted to go out with him, he had been hoping for something more simplistic like dinner or a movie. An actual date where he could get to know her and possibly lay the foundation for a relationship. It was never supposed to be like this. He knows deep down that he isn't helping her, and going at it night after night like this is only driving her deeper into her bottomless pit of grief. If he cares about her, if he really wants to help her, he has to put an end to all of this.

Elsa enters his condo and casually throws her stuff over on the couch like this is all too routine for her now. Her hand reaches over to her shoulder and starts to pull down her teal cardigan when Hans stops her and recovers the exposed porcelain skin.

"You have a choice," Holding up his hand as he prepares to count the options off on his fingers. "Coffee, cocktails, or... let's see. Smoothies? Cold-pressed juice? I don't even know which you prefer."

Her brows rise in unison. "I don't understand," Shaking her head, baffled by his question.

"I'm going to take you out for a drink. I want to just talk. And if you don't feeling like talking, I promise to sit with you for at least an hour and silently be your support. _Real_ support. None of this hiding behind sex."

"I'm not hiding," Eyes darting around the room like she's suddenly ashamed of herself.

He cups a hand against her cheek and lovingly brushes those translucent freckles with the pad of his thumb. "You're much too sweet to be doing this. I know it helps now, but you deserve someone who will listen to you and all those thoughts you're trying to drown out." Her lips pull tight, and she fights the wave of emotion, knowing he's right. "I want to get to know you. I want to be the one to hold you when you cry. So that you don't feel so alone and can accomplish that through love, not just sex. I can't save you from all of this. You're the only one who can do that. But I can help you. If you let me." It takes her a moment to swallow back the urge to flee. To run from her feelings. But standing here with Hans, his hand on her cheek anchoring her to reality, she wonders if they've sent him to her. If this is her parents' way of making sure she's taken care of. So that she doesn't have to brave this storm alone.

"So what'll it be?" He asks again, smiling even bigger. "Coffee, cocktails, or some third thing that you enjoy that I don't know about."

She sniffles and breathes a laugh. "C-Coffee. Coffee's good," Returning his smile.

"Good." His other hand comes to cradle her face, and he kisses her gently on the forehead. "You ready to go?"

Hans moves to open the front door, but is stopped when Elsa throws her arms around him and squeezes him tight. She's trying not to cry, but it's all that much harder when he runs his hands over her braid and plants another kiss right on top of her head. "Thank you," She whispers against his ear.

* * *

Things are better once they start strolling down the street towards one of Hans' favorite coffee shops, and he can't wait to get her one of those giant chocolate chip muffins. Their hands find each other, and she takes the initiative to lace their fingers together. It's nice and much better than sex in its simplistic sort of way.

They grab their drinks and pick a table in back, away from the evening crowd. Elsa doesn't know where to begin and doesn't say much at first, but it's not long before one word leads to several tumbling out, one after the next like Jenga blocks, and then it's a locomotive of emotions barreling out of her all at once.

The chair screeches across the hardwood floor as Hans drags it closer to a weeping Elsa and wraps his arms around her, cradling her to his chest as she saturates his shirt with a river of tears. He never looks away from her, not even once. Giving her as much time as she needs. Because he wouldn't disrupt this moment for anything.

In the safety of his arms, she lets it all flow of her. Every bit of sadness and anger that's been dwelling inside her. It hurts and it's awful, but eventually she reaches a point where the tears just won't come anymore, and her body begins to settle itself after a few shaky breaths.

She apologizes for making a mess of his shirt, dabbing it with brown paper napkins that don't do a thing, but he cherishes the gesture all the same. He wipes the tears from her bloodshot eyes, and when she lets a smile finally break through that morose guise of hers, Hans brightens in turn like the sun emerging from behind a cloud after a sudden downpour.

Feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off her back, a first step in what's sure to be many, along with some setbacks, Elsa tosses her drink into the trash and motions her head towards the door, signaling she's ready to go.

Hans hails a taxi and holds her tiny body during the short trip to her apartment near school. He's the perfect gentleman as he walks her to her front door and says how thankful he is for a chance to see the real Elsa and commends her for being so brave.

He wants to see her again but says he wants to take things slow, give her time to heal. Elsa agrees but doesn't see why they can't at least keep seeing each other if she promises to go on formal dates and save sex for later. Hans obliges after some persuasion, and before he knows it he's agreed to take her to a poetry reading at her school the following night.

With their plans sealed, there's only one thing left to do. But this time when they kiss, it's different. It's not something that blocks her pain or eradicates the numbness. It's innocent and soft, spun from love instead of a need to cope laced with lust. He's not saving her; she's doing that on her own. But this time, Hans will be by her side in the way it was meant to be.

* * *

_AN: This series will update near weekly now with longer chapters. Here's what I've got in the works:_

_Superhero!Elsa, Supervillain!Hans- They're also dated and don't know they're each other's arch nemesis._

_Bodyguard__!Hans, Modern Princess!Elsa_

_Painter!Hans, Seductive Muse! Elsa_

_Soilder!Hans, Undercover!Elsa_

_Dying!Hans, Angel!Elsa_

_Foreign Exchange Student!Elsa, Host!Hans_

_If you have a prompt you'd like to send in, pm me or send me an ask on tumblr at Freudianslip13. _


	5. My Super Girlfriend

_AN: First part of a two-shot about super hero Elsa and super villain Hans. This is more of an intro into the main part of the story, which will be up later this week hopefully. I went beta-less on this, so I apologize for any typos._

* * *

A battle is raging on the top of Arendelle's tallest skyscraper. A tower of sleek glass leads to the scene unfolding on the helicopter pad of the North Mountain building downtown, as a descending sun threatens to give way to the black of night.

The Dark Prince has his latest invention barreling into the roof of what houses the security commission on the eightieth floor, so that he can steal the codes he needs to find the antidote to his arch nemesis, the Snow Queen, at Arendelle's top secret research facility outside of the city. A woman born of the coldest winter and processing the power of cryokinetics, the Snow Queen has made it her life's mission to use her gifts and abilities to protect the people of Arendelle and serve its leader, Commander Agdar.

The massive drill grinding away at steel beams and endless layers of concrete is nearly through to the area that contains the vault and codes when the Snow Queen arrives with a subsonic boom and blasts her powers from her hands straight into the swirling gears of the drill. The Dark Prince scowls violently as he sets his eyes on her iridescent cape and sparkly white tights stemming out her icy blue boots. She embodies the look of a classic female crime fighter as she grits her pearly white teeth and focuses all her energy on the man who has been threatening her city for the past few years now.

Blinding electric blue rays vibrate through the crisp night air and encase everything in its path in a thick layer of unbreakable glacier blue ice. It's no ordinary ice, which is why the Dark Price has such a difficult time carrying out his dastardly plans. Only the Snow Queen herself can melt her mystical ice. Nothing the Dark Prince has tried has been able to succeed in arresting her black magic. No chemicals or amount of salt compounds can stop this woman or her crippling ice.

The mission entirely is botched now as the end of the drill breaks off like a flimsy branch caught in a strong wing. The Dark Prince growls in frustration from his seat at the back of the drill and moves to exit the machine to confront the Snow Queen face to face. Well, mask to mask that is.

Outside of his plans to dethrone the Commander and take control as Arendelle's leader, the Dark Prince is a simple red headed man named Hans Westergaard who fronts as an investment banker by day and works on his plans to crush the Snow Queen by night. That was until he met a certain young woman that has managed to captured his heart for over the past month. Another reason why his plans are so quickly squashed these days. Wooing a woman and being a supervillain are difficult to juggle with everything else he's got going on.

The irony of the entire situation is that this whole plan is going to make him late for a date that was to begin a half an hour ago and his girlfriend is probably standing outside the movie house impatiently pacing about.

He's not the only one on this rooftop trying to salvage a love life. By day the Snow Queen is Elsa Nørdland, talented painter whose realistic landscapes are known city wide. And she too has someplace else that she was supposed to be at with her boyfriend, instead of stopping another miserable attempt to capture the city on a pitch black rooftop.

The Snow Queen surmises this is now an open and shut case, with the drill completely busted, screws firing out of the motor left and right like rapid fire, but she's quickly proven wrong when the Dark Prince jumps out the pilot's seat, wildly brandishing a custom made electrolaser gun at her.

She thinks his attempt to come after her on foot is rather cute, until she realizes the gun is able to fire faster than she's able to move, motion sensor tracking system predicting her line of trajectory before her foot has even left the ground.

Seeing the Snow Queen dart around the roof like a cornered animal is insanely entertaining to the Dark Prince, who laughs maniacally as she tries to jump and duck from the gun's persistent firing, like she's caught in a life or death game of laser tag. He always gets a little too caught up in these moments, the flood of power intoxicating his system, and he starts practically foaming at the mouth at how close he is to executing the Queen and claiming leadership over the people of Arendelle.

But the Snow Queen is one step ahead of the Dark Prince, as she's able to notice the tracking beam followers her and her powers, and quickly creates an army of tiny snowmen that scurry about the roof, throwing the Dark Prince and his laser gun off long enough so that she can blast the weapon right out of his hands with a single glittering shot of ice. One solitary second of hesitation was all she needed to end this evening's battle and send the Dark Prince fleeing to his helicopter on the south side of the building and retreat into the night sky.

Elsa quickly repairs the damage to the roof with her powers and secures the building before leaving. She knows she's not going to have enough time to run back to her apartment and get ready in time for her date. So she decides to swing by her sister's instead, just a few blocks away on Street.

With her arms straight at her sides and hands flexed to the max, she's able to propel herself through the sky by unleashing her magic from her palms. A light dusting of snow trickles down over the city in her wake, letting all of Arendelle know that the Snow Queen is out protecting them. Mothers breathe a sigh of relief as their children stick out their tongues and catch one of her magical snowflakes on the tip, thankful to know she's on the job and looking out for them. They rejoice each time the residual snow rises to the sky and collects to form the Snow Queen's signature snowflake before scattering like a firework into the night, signally that the danger has passed.

It's back to reality as Elsa hones in on Anna's apartment building and checks the time on the digital display projected in her mask, an invention created by her one and only tech guru, Kristoff. Also her soon to be brother-in-law.

She was supposed to meet Hans outside of the cinema a half an hour ago and only hopes he doesn't think she's stood him up. She really, _really_, likes this guy and being cute and smart will only excuse her lateness so many times.

"I need something to wear in a hurry!" Elsa blurts out frantically as she flies through an open window and heads straight to Anna's disheveled closet at the back of her equally messy room.

"I have a front door you know?" Anna sassily reminds her sister as she turns around in her office chair and away from her art history essay still half finished on the laptop screen.

"That would have taken too long and I'm already so late." Elsa frantically files through the closet, hangers furiously sliding and clicking together, but can't even begin to decided on an outfit when she rushes herself like this.

Cool as a cucumber, because she's the little sister and worrying is more of a big sister thing, Anna casually walks over to the closet and whips out a sexy skirt and top for Elsa.

"Here. Wear this," handing the skimpy clothing to Elsa, who scoffs at the very suggestion of a micro mini.

Sapphire eyes spring open to the width of a full moon as they flick from the outfit to her sister in shock. "I can't wear this!" Protesting with a disgruntled wave of her hand at the rather provocative outfit. It's not exactly slutty, revealing in the most classiest of ways, but would show much more skin than even Elsa is used to.

Giggling at an octave three times higher than Elsa could ever reach, Anna playfully rolls her eyes and prepares to school her sister on proper seventh date attire. "How long have you and Hans been going out now?" Anna simpers and raises one of her russet brows.

"A month." Elsa knows that's long enough for the general dating public but to Anna, it's an eternity, and the blonde braces herself for her sister's trademark persuasion.

"And you haven't slept with him?" Anna continues, despite Elsa's gasp at the question.

"God no."

"Seriously?" Rolling her teal eyes as her arm lowers to her side, tired from holding the outfit outstretched like she has been. "You're so Victorian. It's Iike you're _courting_ instead of _dating_."

"He's a gentleman," Elsa retorts with a sickeningly sweet pride.

"He's a _guy_," Anna counters bluntly, knowing she has more experience in this area that her older, usually more wiser, sister. "You _need_ to wear this. You got the good legs. And boobs. And butt. It's not fair," Anna digresses and shakes her head at her perky, but not as bountiful, chest. "Anyways, you need to give him some eye candy. And a _feel_, if you know what I mean," giving Elsa a wink before prattling on. "Kristoff loves when I wear skirts because he can slide his hand right up my-"

"I don't need to know!" Elsa yells, throwing up her hands up like she's trying to stop a freight train from slamming into her. "I happen to work with him. I don't need to think about him _fondling_ my little sister." Anna shoves the outfit back in her sister's direction and when the thought of Hans grinning ear to ear enters Elsa's mind, she reluctantly melts her elastic-like crime fighting garbs and shimmies the skirt over her shapely hips before throwing on the matching blouse.

The outfit may be out of Elsa's comfort zone, but deep down, she wants to be admired by Hans. Wants to see that flicker of want in his hunter green eyes when he looks at her. Knowing that she does something to him that no one else can. And she doesn't mind because she knows he loves how smart and talented she is. He doesn't like her just for her unattainable beauty. She's never felt like this about anyone before, and even though he's a perfect gentleman, she wants to undo him just the tiniest bit and is sure this itty bitty skirt will do the trick.

"Here. Heels," Anna chirps and hands her sister a pair of simple black pumps. Elsa's skin is so impossibly white that black is the one color that makes it look even more irresistible than the standard blue and teal she's so found of.

Nearly almost an hour late, Elsa gives her sister a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you!" She calls as she skips back over to the window, arms out in front of her in a pose reminiscent of Superman as she prepares to swan down to the sidewalk.

"Use the front door, like a regular woman, please," Anna pleads as her sister stops mid take off, forgetting she's off duty.

"Right. Thanks again. Love you," blowing a kiss back to Anna as she scampers down the stairs and off to her prince charming.

* * *

"I'm sorry I'm late," Elsa heaves as she gracefully runs down the street and straight to the man she's been trying to get to all evening. And quite possibly, her whole life.

"No. Don't be sorry," the dashing auburn haired man says. "I just got here myself. I got held up at the office." Elsa runs right up to Hans but stops herself from throwing her arms around him, even though she wants to very much. Taking things slow is more her style but Hans makes it extremely difficult to control herself around him.

"Me too," she replies and sighs deeply, still trying to catch her breath when his hands wrap themselves around each of her upper arms, sending that exhilarating chill she's recently become addicted to racing up her spine like an electric current. The rush of the night has come to a standstill as Elsa is able to breathe normally now and let herself soak up the way Hans' bright green eyes are affectionately gazing down on her. She could have been five hours late and he would have still been waiting for her with a smile on his handsome face.

"Hi," she says softly, setting into moment and trying her hand a proper greeting.

"Hi." Her cheeks are gorgeously flushed from her sprint down the street and Hans can't help but notice when he cups a hand over one of them and captures her lips in a soft kiss. They're burning even brighter when he pulls away and, oh, how he loves being able to make her light up like this. So alive and full of color. "So, French cinema or diner food?" Flashing his eyes up to the marquee on his left and then over to Oaken's diner across the street.

He's dressed in really expensive nice jeans and a button up shirt that fits so perfectly she thinks she might swoon from the way it shows off his muscles. Gorgeous eyes, perfect teeth, and a smile that makes her heart beat double time. He was nothing short of amazing. And it didn't hurt that he had a steady job and looked great on paper too.

"French cinema," she beams without missing a beat. "Like you have to ask. You don't like the subtitles?" Scrunching her brows in concern as her hand naturally rest on his chest and lovingly fingers the crisp cotton collar of his shirt.

"I came to be with you," stealing her breath with just those few simple words. "And if _you_ love movies with subtitles, then _I_ love movies with subtitles. And besides, French is _sexy_," suggestively bouncing his brows as he loops his arm around Elsa's and leads her into the cinema.

Elsa learns quickly that Anna was dead right about Hans being a guy. Ten minutes into the movie, while Elsa is snacking on their shared bag of unsalted popcorn, she feels Hans' hand come to rest on her thigh. She gasps silently because the skirt is so scandalous short and his hand is so dangerously high that she's bowled over by the sudden warmth swarming her body. And she _likes_ it. She likes it even more when he leans over and asks if it's okay, eyes motioning to his hand happily making itself at home on her lily-white skin. She nods enthusiastically and kisses him for being so considerate. _See, gentleman._

* * *

One month turns into two and things become even more serious between the two love birds. Hans comes over to meet Anna and Kristoff and gets their seal of approval. A little too much approval from Anna, who submits a list of possible baby names to Elsa the very next day. In turn, Elsa meets all twelve of Hans' overbearing brothers. And for once, they are all jealous of him.

Their work schedules continue to clash pretty badly but they're able to find time one night to share that special first time. And Hans is patient and gentle and Elsa knows that he's probably the one. And in a few year times, maybe they'll make it official. _Mrs. Westergaard_, she thinks to herself, more often than she'd like to admit. And it has this wonderful ring to it, like it's the last piece to a puzzle she didn't even know she was trying to put together.

First holidays together are always the best and Hans and Elsa share their first Christmas together, wearing matching ugly sweaters to Anna's annual holiday party. After New Years, he gives Elsa a ring. Not an engagement ring, because she's old fashion and believes in being with someone longer than a year to even consider marriage. It's a promise ring. A promise to love her and be devoted to her until the day he asks her to officially be his forever.

It all has a fairytale quality to it but it dawns on Elsa that she's going to have to reveal her identity to Hans if they ever do get married. There's plenty of time to think about logistics but it's something that could change everything and neither one of them know if they're prepared for that. And everything's too perfect right now to jeopardize what they have. Or the city's safety for that matter.

* * *

It's late one night at Elsa's apartment as the two are cuddle up together on the couch like tangled ivy, legs twisted together as they ignore the movie flashing on the screen and savor the sensation of smooth lips gliding over each other again and again.

"I love you," Elsa whispers and stops to look into deep Hans' eyes. She's told him she loves him before but there's something different this time. As if she confessing a secret he already knew.

A smile pulls at Hans' lips and he dips his chin to give her a kiss on her forehead. "I love you too, sweetheart." But that doesn't seem to be the reply she's wanting to hear because she still looking at him and curiously searching his face. "Something on your mind?" He finally asks.

Elsa shifts under his hold and nibbles on her lip as she thinks a moment. "Do you have any secrets?" Her voice mellow and melodic, the exact opposite of the reaction sparking in Hans' body. _Secrets_. The very word made his heart jump into his throat and stomach violent lurch.

"Secrets?" He replies innocently enough, concealing the mini heart attack happening in his chest.

"I mean," she pauses and tries again. "There's more to me than what you know. And I'm trying to figure out when I've reached the place where I let you in, all the way."

Hans breathes a sigh of relief but then grows concerned at her admission. "All the way?" He repeats, unsure of what she means.

"I love you. I know that. That won't change. Grow with time, of course, but it's not something I'm uncertain of," peridot eyes attempting to watch how her fingers tease apart the sections of hair falling over the crown of his head. "I just... have things that I want to tell you but it has to be right."

He nods his head agreeably and sweetly smiles back at her. "If I can be totally honest, I have things I want to tell you too. But I have no idea when the right time will be. I just know it's probably not right this second."

"Exactly. That's what I was trying to say but couldn't get it to come out right. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," he promises, knowing there is nothing that could strip him of his love for her. No matter who he might really be. "Look at me, Elsa. I love you, and nothing you tell me is going to make me stop. I made a promise remember? A promise to wait until you're ready. Secrets and all."

Because whatever secret Elsa has, he's certain it's not going to be near the ginormous confession he has to make.

* * *

Spring blooms across the city and melts the snow, not of the Snow Queen's doing but Mother Nature this time. Love is growing deeper but ominous forces are rising. The Dark Prince has teamed up with the evil Doctor Wesselton, and with their combination of brains and money, they're starting to make some real advances in their plot to end to the Snow Queen and take control over the city once and for all.

* * *

_AN: Thank you so much to all who are following this story. I left a major following to do something that was more gratifying and so far, it's proven to be worth wild. Thank you and stay tuned for part II!_


	6. My Super Girlfriend: Part ll

_I have to thank Music2333 for sending in this prompt. My apologies for the lateness of this update. I got sick last week and then work was crazy but the next update will be this Friday. I didn't use a beta for this and, because I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, I put it up in a bit of a hurry. I apologize for any typos or anything. I will go back and brush this up later but the wait is at least over. Also, the final scene is a tad violent in that Hans squeezes Elsa's throat. _

* * *

It was a perfectly glorious spring afternoon in Arendelle. A bright glowing sun trickled down through the bountiful leaves of a generous maple tree, providing just enough shade over the spectacular spread Hans had surprised Elsa with.

The weather was so incredibly warm that the day simply begged for an afternoon picnic in the park. Just him and his most favorite girl in the entire world. But not just _any_ picnic. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were left behind for a selection of gourmet meats and cheeses, two personal caprese salads, a fresh crisp baguette, a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio, and a ribbon-wrapped box of colorful macaroons, complete with a single red rose, from the French bakery down the street from Hans' apartment. And while a more casual affair would have been quite satisfactory for Elsa, she definitely had an affinity for the finer things in life, and Hans knew that well enough. She'd never boast about it, but she loved nothing more than being wined and dined, and Hans had an undying need to recreate every romantic cliché in the book for her without thinking twice about the expense, sunny midday picnic included.

So it was here, under the giant maple tree, umbrellaing them under its protective shield against the sun's unseasonable warmth, that they lay peacefully and let time carelessly slip away like sand through a sieve.

Thoroughly sated from lunch and dizzy from the unabashed way Hans was gazing down into her bottomless swells of tropical blue, Elsa stretched out on her back, red and white checks of the blanket pressed against the underside of her body, and basked in Hans' never-ending show of affection.

He stroked along the feathery outline of blonde baby hairs that so beatifically framed her angelic face, then trailed his thumb over the smattering of barely there freckles that every now and again, met the sweeping fan of her fluttering lashes. He positively loved the way she illuminated with color when they were close like this, losing herself in the lazy smile catching at the corner of his lips. Everything was as it should be as twittering birds provided an impromptu soundtrack to what was shaping up to be a pretty good afternoon.

"What time do you have to be back?" Elsa asked reluctantly, feeling the protective caregiver inside her rise above the desire to stay enraptured in this most splendid moment, ignoring the voice in her head that kept begging for just one more kiss. Because, for Elsa, there was never such a thing as _one_ more kiss. There was unyielding kissing, full of passion and fervid want, until one of them finally broke away and dashed back to work or wherever else they needed to be before their emotions got the best of them. She'd done so well this afternoon, even slipping in the reminder about the time, until her lips were suddenly pressed softly against his again, sighing sweetly as he pulled gently on her bottom lip, like it was candy to his senses and he wasn't going to let it go until he was good and ready.

"I do have to get back soon," Hans admitted but eased the sting of reality with another go at her reddening lips, puffy and swollen from nearly a good half hour of pouring their names into each other's mouths, lips never leaving except to swap _I love you_s within the breathless stretch that dared to separate them.

Elsa pulled her mouth into a doleful frown, more of a pout that was really a ploy to get Hans to stay just a little longer.

"Really?" Batting her lashes with every ounce of charm she possessed in her lithesome body.

"Yes, really," humming a chuckle against her lips as Hans pushed himself upright and started to clean up the plates (real plates) and bits of leftover food, tucking them carefully into the wooden picnic basket the deli on Odin Avenue so thoughtfully provided him with to make the occasional truly authentic. "Don't you have a commission for the Children's Museum to work on?" Trying to help snap Elsa out the love stupor he could only blame himself for leaving her in.

"I do," Elsa sighed longingly, tossing away a few blades of grass and then raking her bangs over the top of her head. Weight of obligation and life outside of Hans settling back into her bones as she diligently brushed Hans' own hair back into place and slipped on her flats so that he could fold the blanket. "I haven't even started the sketches for it yet," she confessed, knowing it wasn't normally like herself to get behind on her work. "But I'm sure I'll think of something," eyes transfixed on Hans, mesmerized by the ease of his movements as he perfectly met the corners of the blanket without even trying and folded it in half, and then in half again. The muscles of his chest flexing enough so that she could see the outline of this toned front, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she enjoyed the view.

"I know you will, sweetheart," pressing a kiss to her forehead as he tucked the blanket under his arm. "I may have to work late tonight though. There's a really important investor I have to meet with. So, I probably won't see you until tomorrow."

Elsa sulked a little as she stood with a mighty groan and stretched, dusting off her cotton sundress before her arms encircled themselves around Hans' neck and began to wonder when 24 four hours became such an impossibly long time to go without seeing someone. "You know there's an easy fix to all of this?" Hans continued boldly, thick voice demanding her attention. "If we lived together, you'd see me every night. Whether I worked late or not."

Not exactly the solution Elsa was thinking, but she reluctantly admitted to herself that it was somewhere deep in the back of her mind. Or heart.

The hopeful grin on Hans' face started to slip away when Elsa panicked and awkwardly smiled back, trying to put her thoughts in order for Hans as she sorted out her emotions for herself, because she had a feeling just where this all was leading. Marriage was a big commitment and Elsa never entered into something so important without plenty of time and thought behind it. But those soft green eyes implored something within her that she was almost afraid to let herself feel.

"It's not that I don't love you," she started easy enough before uncomfortably clearing her throat, tone falling from light and chipper to something more serious. "I just keep reading about how cohabitating before marriage correlates to a higher chance of divorce."

A low chortle rolled out from Hans' gut, not exactly surprised by her reply but rather amused by her research skills. "You're not only unbelievably beautiful, but you read peered reviewed journals on relationships as well. Any girl can be beautiful," cupping his hands around her face as she melted into their tantalizing warmth. "Beautiful _and _smart, _and_ talented. Now that's a rare gem I plan on holding onto." They breathed into the silence, listening to the birds continue to chatter amongst the wind rustling through the trees. But Elsa wasn't giving him much to work with. "Alright," Hans replied, as if he just accepted a challenge she didn't know she made. "Then marry me."

"Hans," Elsa gasped and took a measured step back, heels clicking together as her eyes wildly darted around in every direction of the park.

"It's not like we haven't talked about it. Not like we're not planning on it," reaching out for her hand and holding up the promise ring sparkling on her slender finger.

"It hasn't even been a year though," she argued, furrowing her dark blonde brows. But it was pointless. She knew she wanted to be with him and even though everything was a little too good to be true, she couldn't help but trust him with all her heart, no matter how terrifying that was.

"What is the acceptable time then? You seem to have a specific amount of time in mind that must pass before you feel ready."

"I-I don't know," Elsa stammered, disconcerting expression washing over her guise as Hans attempted to hold back a gloating smirk.

"I'll wait till you're ready. I just want a rough idea of how long that might be." His voice was like silk that time, tempting her to give into the part of herself she'd been holding back since she knew for sure she was in love with him.

"Hans," pleading as he stepped closer, staggering his feet between hers and cradling the nape of her neck with a purposeful hand, fingers splayed humbly into her draping platinum locks. How could she say no to this? To this feeling her instills her? Pure elation wrapped in divinity. He was smart. He was good looking. They could seemingly talk for hours about anything and he loved her endlessly. And it wasn't something she was willing to lose.

"Ask me at the end of the summer."

"Ask you what?" Hans teased and tickled her sides, just to hear her say it out loud as she wriggled in his hold.

"You're terrible," swatting his arm as she scoffed and quickly slipped back into the moment at hand, whispering against the shell of his ear as his sideburns brushed against her cheek. "Ask me to marry you and I'll say yes."

"And when you say 'end of summer,' you mean like end of the fiscal quarter or Labor Day or Autumn Equinox...?" Elsa laughed, harder this time as Hans took the opportunity to wrap her tighter in his arms, so she barely had an inch to breathe.

"Let's just say not before August is through, but don't wait so long that I'm wearing a scarf when you do it." Both of their hearts were about to pound right out of their chest and Hans swore he could feel the thrum of her pulse when he captured her lips in a deep celebratory kiss, pausing a moment to also place a kiss on the ring that would need to be replaced in about three month's time before returning his gaze up to her blushing features.

"A promise is promise."

* * *

It's the dead of night when Hans is summoned to Dr. Weselton's mansion, embedded deep within Arendelle's hills. All thoughts of Elsa are cast aside as he embodies the Dark Prince, letting it seep into his veins like a virus of the mind and never wondering how he's going to merge the two sides of himself for his soon-to-be fiancée. Because in some part of Hans' mind, he thinks he's going to be able to keep fronting like an investment banker for the extent of their entire relationship and keep this darker side of him a secret. He figures people work for the FBI and their wives have no idea what exactly they do at their job, so why should he and Elsa be any different? Clearly, he's in denial and planning hasn't exactly always been his forte. Craving power and respect, now that, he's a master at. And it's the only thing he wants more desperately than anything else he's ever wanted in life before.

Weselton's thugs have managed to retrieve the codes and it's not much longer before they make off with the antidote as well. The end to the Snow Queen swirls like a mystical cyclone of blues and violets in a narrow vial clutched in Weselton's pruney gloved hand. Convincing Hans that now is their time, _his _time, since Weselton's far too old to lead Arendelle alone for as long as Hans would be able to. All that's left to do is stage a ruse for the Snow Queen, give her the antidote, and dethrone Commander Agdar once and for all.

This is the opportunity Weselton has been waiting a long time for. He tried to overthrow Commander Agdar himself years ago but wasn't as young and spry as Hans to outwit the Snow Queen, then just a young girl herself. Hans is the key. Weselton's pawn to help finally see his vision come to fruition so that all of Arendelle's riches can be his, through Hans.

* * *

The security alarm at a downtown bank goes off just as Kristoff and Anna are sitting down to a nice quiet dinner, which is usually the time something like this happens. It's Kristoff's job to alert Elsa, so he begrudgingly drags himself away from their kitchen table, and the wonderful roast Anna has spent all afternoon slaving over, to boot up his laptop to get the location of the break in.

Anna patiently waits on the couch, twirling a strand of copper hair around her finger like this is no big deal to her, and listens in as Kristoff gives Elsa the low down on the situation downtown.

It's no time at all before Elsa takes off into the night and bursts through the doors of the bank to find it completely empty. There's not a soul to be seen and the only thing that brings life to the place is the sound of the alarm still blaring throughout the first floor. Cautiously, eyes wide and senses on high alert, she makes her way over to the alarm and shuts it off, only to be blindsided by a blunt blow to the head by one of Weselton's henchmen. The hit sets off a deafening high-pitched ring inside her head, but it's not enough to knock her out. The distraction works well enough for the masked man to shackle her in specially made iron restraints that keep her hands from releasing her powers.

The Snow Queen struggles to remain conscious as the goon drags her into the elevator and heads to the roof of the building, Hans' favorite place to conduct business because he loves to literally feel like he's on top of the world.

The beat of a Viking drum pounds furiously inside the Snow Queen's skull but she's able to at least stand on her own two feet as she's manhandled out of the elevator and towards the Dark Prince, black cape billowing in the night breeze. And even though she can't see under his mask, he's grinning ear to ear just seeing her so weak and pathetic in front of him like this.

"Tonight my dear Snow Queen, is the last night you will ever stand in my way again. Tonight is the night I end you," the Dark Prince bellows through a voice distortion device, making him seem all the more unholy as the Snow Queen's eyes settle on the crystal vial gleaming in his outstretched hand.

Struck with a bolt of fear, her back shoots straight up as she uses all her remaining strength to escape the thug's hold on her. The vial is something she knows about all too well. It was created by Arendelle's leaders themselves as a way to stop the Snow Queen if they ever needed to. Although she was Arendelle's knight in glittering blue tights, powers such as her's could never truly be trusted to be used for only good. When the Dark Prince says he's going to end her, she knows exactly what he means and how he intends to do it.

Reality comes to light as she realizes this whole thing has been a set up, but it's far too late for the Snow Queen as the Dark Prince has her shackled and cornered on the east side of the rooftop as Weselton and his army of men look on. Her powers desperately try to frost over the iron restraints and break through to free her, failing to do so faster than the Dark Prince moves towards her with the vial proudly clutched in his hand.

Years of defeat and anger boil up within him as the Dark Prince lets his rage flow freely like a river of lava, wrapping his hand around her fragile pale throat as her feet give out and she sinks onto the ground, gasping for precious air. Her heart is beating so fast she thinks it may give out before he's even had the chance to extinguish her himself. Death is staring her in the face, full of unmerciful vengeance.

The Snow Queen is still unsure if he plans to kill her or just rid her of her powers. Every last drop of the antidote must make contact with her body in order for it work, but it will in no way kill her on its own. Judging by the look on Weselton's face, it's a grim reality that no matter how things pan out, her life will never be the same. Either they'll kill her, or, perhaps worse, deprive her of her powers and strip her of her role as Arendelle's protector, so that she can helplessly stand by and watch the Dark Prince come into power.

The ominous man looms over her as she's now pressed flat on her back and held up only by the hold he still has on her neck, fist trembling with adrenaline now that he's this close to triumph.

The Dark Prince victoriously holds the vial above the Snow Queen's quivering face as he tilts it to let a single test drop spill onto her crystallized mask. The gorgeously crafted opalescent ice that's concealed her identity for so long, melts faster than a snowman under a blazing summer sun, evaporating into thin air as piece by piece, the Snow Queen's true identity is revealed.

A gasp echoes throughout Hans' own mask and helmet, seeing the image of his most bitter rival transform into that of his beloved girlfriend. A moment that should have been a dream come true is now nothing short of a nightmare as his brain scrambles to digest what he's seeing.

There's no denying it. The unmistakable blue of her irises. The distinct pattern of those ivory freckles he's memorized by heart and kissed a thousand times over. It's her.

"Elsa," he muffles brokenly through the thickness of his mask, voice raising to a more recognizable tone, even through the garbled distortion.

Elsa fights to breath as the Prince's grip on her throat eases up, equally shocked at what she's hearing.

"H-How... how do you know my n-name?" She strangles out, ashamed of the defeated position she find herself in, as she coughs and gags on the air forcing its way into her burning lungs.

He doesn't say a word and releases her throat completely, hands moving to pop the latches of his helmet and pulls it slowly over his head. Bright auburn hair bounces out from under the menacing black mask, and Elsa's jaw falls to the floor as her worst nightmare comes true. She knows that hair, recognizes its smell. She's had her fingers tangled within it countless times. She's burrowed her nose in it and smelt his musk every time she wakes up next to him. She's even dreamed of their children barring its same striking hue. And her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach faster than an anvil when she comes to understand that the man she's fallen hopelessly in love with, the man who is quite possibly her soul mate, is her mortal enemy who has tried to kill her numerous times.

"No. No, please no," she begs helplessly as Hans lets his helmet fall to the ground with a heavy thud, hoping this isn't real. His handsome face is dreadfully long and filled with sadness as he watches her beautiful eyes flood with tears. Because they both know this is a collision of apocalyptic proportions. Hans' sole job as the Dark Prince is to exterminate the Snow Queen, just as her job is to protect the city at any cost.

"How is this possible? How could you-" furry taking over as she begins to stutter her words. "How can this be _you_? How could you do this to me?" Elsa's face is seething with anger as she tries to use her shackled hands to sit up better. There's no response in Hans' face. It's utterly expressionless as he attempts to swallow the jagged little pill of truth that's just been served to him.

"Elsa, you're the Snow Queen. You've lied to me too."

Her head shakes, frosted blonde hair falling out of place from the thick braid he's never seen her wear before. Salty tears that sting upon contact blur her vision, but she can't even bring herself to look at him anyways because it may physically break her heart entirely. More so than it already is. "But I fight for the safety of this city. I'm the good guy here, Hans. You're... you're." Too many tears making it impossible to say the words she knows are chillingly true. "You're the bad guy."

Lies, she tells herself. It was all lies. Or was it? The love they felt had to be real but so much is going on, Weselton and his men moving in even closer, that neither one of them can begin to process this huge blow to their world right now.

Hans discards his gloves and caps the vial, setting it aside, as he cradles her head and cringes at the red handprint he's left of her throat. He maybe a villain but his love for her is tearing him in so many directions that instinct has taken over, choosing to tend to Elsa as his touch becomes soft and comforting.

"I never meant to hurt _you_," his voice shaking uncontrollably. "The Snow Queen, yes. But for Gods sakes Elsa, I thought you were a painter?" Green eyes skip about her somber features, tear-stained and coloring pink from the overwhelming emotions crashing down on her. "And… you have magical powers?!" More of a rhetorical question, since they both know the answer. "No wonder why your hands are always so cold," unintentional humor cutting through his fog of disorientation.

There's not much time left as Weselton and his men position themselves just behind Hans. They have no clue what's going on between Hans and Elsa, but the blonde now knows, based on the weaponry one particular man is wielding, that they intend to kill her.

Shattered sapphire eyes return to the peridot orbs that once brought her so much joy. "You got what you wanted. Even knowing who I am, it won't stop you, will it? Weselton won't let you." Hans glances over his shoulder as the men move in even closer, firearms aimed directly at the Snow Queen and ready to fire.

"Finish her! Destroy her!" Weselton commands aggressively, as if he knows Hans' will is fading fast.

This is the end, Elsa tells herself, using her final moment to let her eyes rove over the one and only person she ever fully gave her heart to. "I loved you," she cries, a tear landing on Hans' hand.

Power is suddenly a very lonely idea as Hans holds Elsa's limp body in his arms. All he ever wanted was to be more than his family told he would amount to. And as Commander of Arendelle, would that even be enough to please them? Or himself for that matter?

The thought of ruling the city has never filled him the joy that being with Elsa has, not in the same way. He's been living a lie and now is forced to make a choice in which a part of him must die. Going through with his plans is a death sentence for Elsa. He'll spend the rest of his days in total power but living in the shadow of what could have been and morning the love he lost. Or he chooses love, and loses that power he so desperately needs to feel accomplished in life. Being a banker isn't exactly how he saw his life panning out. But he knows he can't go a single day without her. And a lifetime of her absence is a price he's not willing to pay.

"Can you break through the restraints?" He whispers low enough so that Weselton can't hear.

Elsa chokes on a sob and is taken aback by his question. Nevertheless, she glances down at the ice still relentlessly trying to freeze over the iron. Her eyes slip close and she focuses all her might on forcing the locks to burst open, but it's not enough.

Hans remains completely still, so that he doesn't telegraphy anything more to Weselton, and let's his eyes convey every emotion surging through his being.

"Try, Elsa. Don't give up," he pleads profusely. "I have nothing on me to fight with. You _have_ to break free. Your powers are the only thing that will stop him."

The shackles glow brighter with rays of electric aqua blue, spikes of pointed ice pierce through the shackles as Hans continues to encourage her with nothing but his eyes and words. "Good, good, good! Almost!" A cry rips from Elsa's throat as her strength begins to fade and the fear that she might not be able to summon enough power settles over her. "I love you. I love and I promise, if we get out of this, I'll make it work. A promise is a promise." She can feel the smooth white-gold band symbolizing that very promise wrapped safely around her finger, giving her that final bit of motivation to increase her powers enough so that the shackles come flying off and over the side of the building.

It's go time as Hans deftly rolls to the side and out of the way for Elsa to take care of the men surrounding them at the edge of the roof top. One by one, she knocks the weapons out of each goons hands in a dazzling display of combat skills. Hans catches himself watching in amazement as Elsa swings her arms and lunges into each move. As graceful as a ballerina and as quick as a ninja, she doesn't need anyones help at this point.

In the midst of the battle, Hans is strangely reminded of a time when he and Elsa tried to put together some furniture from Ikea and she insisted he not help her because, "I can do it myself!" Clearly he'd underestimated her ability to handle herself, because not only did Elsa put that bookshelf together in record time, by herself, but is now single handedly saving their lives on the rooftop of a bank, WITH magical powers to boot. Never again would he doubt her ability to take care of herself or so much as offer to help her open a stubborn jar.

With most of the men now disarmed, Elsa bounds each of their hands behind their back with her ice and freezes them to the roof until she calls for the authorities to come and take them into custody, except for Hans.

When the police arrive, she explains that it was the Dark Prince that helped save her and that Weselton was the man to blame. It's the truth but the words scolds the inside of her mouth as she tells it, but does she believes Hans can be a remorseful man. And besides. Hurt and forgiveness is a part of love they've already been practicing over the last year. On a much smaller scale of course but she loves him enough to not let his tear them apart.

Elsa's much more calm as she stands alone at the edge of the rooftop and looks out of the twinkling lights of the city, hair dancing around her face in the wind and thinking about everything and nothing all at the same time, when hand comes to rest of her shoulder.

"I take it I won't be asking you that question at the end of the summer. Not after all of this," turning back around as Hans gestures to the dozens of policemen leading each member of Weselton's clan into the elevator. "Remember that time I accidentally broke that purple vase you really loved? And I said I was sorry?" Elsa doesn't reply and instead crosses her arms over herself and waits for him to elaborate. "It's funny how 'I'm sorry' felt like enough to be forgiven for breaking a vase," contrite eyes drifting off like he's searching for words to finish his sentence with before flicking them back up to Elsa's sullen face. "I don't know what I'm ever going to be able to say or do to be forgiven for this. Because the truth is, I'm not a good man." The admission hits him hard and she can see it on his face, like he's suffered a punch to the gut. "I wanted to take over the city. I still do but not if it means losing you. And everything I told, about loving you. About wanting to marry you, is true. I struggled with wanting to tell you and I know you must have done the same How in hell were we ever going to have a marriage where we had secret lives like these? Lives where we were enemies? How crazy is that?" The absurdity of the situation baffling him. "Just out of curiosity, does Anna have powers too?"

A simple shake of her head is all Elsa affords him. So it's just her, he surmises. Realizing how lonely it must be to be the only one of her kind. To possess such powers and have to keep it hidden from basically everyone. She should be cast out of society but has found a way to fit in and belong. And he's been cast of out his family and has been trying to force himself to belong by taking a role that doesn't belong to him. It's not until now that he realizes he does fit in, with her.

"Elsa, I'm sorry." Another tear streams down her face, wanting to be mad at him but also having to admit to herself that she also lied about who she real was, with no intention of revealing her secret to him. "I'm sorry. I love you and I'm sor-" silenced by the crash of her lips on his. Hans has no idea what he's done to deserve this, but he kisses her back like a man returning from war anyways. "What was that for?" He asks, amazed to see Elsa smiling up at him.

"Because I love you. I figure most couples have things they have to work through. And while our problems are bigger than most, and we probably just bought ourselves a decade's worth of therapy, I don't want to lose you." She takes a small step back to look at him more fully, his hands finding their way around her petite waist and claiming her. "I _know _there is good in you. And someday, I'll come to understand all of this. And if I'm going to marry you, that means for better or worse, right?"

"You still want to marry me?" Throwing her a look of disbelief, despite the fact he's got her in his arms instead of having her throw him in the back of a paddy wagon like maybe she should have.

"I do. As long as you promise to never try to do anything like this again and you burn this outfit, along with any other Dark Prince belongings you have. I'm serious. Being with me means letting this part of you go. I promise to marry you and you promise to _behave_. Find out why it is your crave this power in the first place and become better for it."

He's a villain and she knows it. But her heart is so invested in him that she'd never be able to recover from the loss, and she knows it. He's not perfect, but he never promised her that he was.

"In all honestly, I got caught up in all of this," Hans laments. "But since I met you, it hasn't been as important. Not until Weselton told me I could reach my potential."

"You _do_ have potential," grazing her delicate fingers over the leather lapels of his jacket, amorous eyes gazing devotedly into his. "But do it like a normal person and use it for good."

"I'll try," he vows, nodding sincerely.

"You promise?" Directing a stiff, warning finger in front of his face before he pulls her close and kisses her firmly.

"I promise."


	7. By My Side: Part l

_This prompt from the lovely Newwriter24 grew wings and flew this past week. It's long and I debated whether to leave as one piece or break it up. Ultimately I chose to break it up, hence the delay in the update._

_Alas, this is modern Princess Elsa and bodyguard Hans._

* * *

"He's the most capable candidate we have. His marks from the academy were amongst the highest in his class, and the recommendations from his fellow officers are simply remarkable. And he's close to Elsa's age and, perhaps, she'll take more kindly to this one than the last," King Agdar assured as he tried to gain his wife's approval of the new bodyguard for their young Princess. Though at twenty-two, she was hardly a little girl anymore. However, the King still required constant protection of his precious daughter at all times.

The Queen pursed her lips as she glanced down at the small square photo of the man in question attached to his file. He was _very_ handsome, she couldn't deny that. Elsa had been so flippant with the past bodyguards because they were more like "walking statues from the previous century," as she put it bluntly. The princess was so extremely fickle about her bodyguards that the King and Queen worried how she would ever find a suitable husband if she couldn't even handle a bodyguard for more than a week. The palace had become a revolving door of men and Hans Westergaard was their last hope. The Princess' reputation and distaste for her protectors was public knowledge by now and filling the position had become increasingly difficult.

"If he comes so highly recommended, why was his stint in the army so short?" The Queen quizzed her husband as she leafed through the file with a keen eye.

"I believe he was wounded. Shot in the shoulder. He's made a full recovery but it makes him ineligible from actively serving. Perhaps it's why he's pursuing intelligence operations instead."

"I see. Well, what choice do we have?" The Queen asked rhetorically, shrugging as she sighed and set the file back on the King's mile long desk. "I trust your judgment. If you think he'll protect our daughter and last longer than the others, then I have no reason to doubt your word."

It was settled. Hans was immediately moved from the security housing on the far grounds of the palace and into the bedroom directly next to Princess Elsa's. That was standard protocol, as King Agdar required constant 24 hour supervision of his daughter. Even though this was the 21st century, and the monarchs were more figureheads than fully active members of government, they were not above the threats that came with the modern world.

Elsa had been away on a ski trip in Switzerland, carving up the Alpine slopes of St. Moritz, when Hans finished moving his things into his new bedroom. A photo of his beloved horse Sitron, his only real friend in life, was placed on the desk provided in front of one of the room's many windows.

He sat on the bed, scratching his prominent chin, and took in his lavish new surroundings. They were much more opulent than the mediocre shared apartment in the security barracks, but it wasn't enough to overcome the hesitation he felt about his new assignment.

Elsa was known for being extremely beautiful; she was on the cover of every magazine in the country on a weekly basis. Private life nearly nonexistent as the paparazzi relentlessly followed her every move throughout the capitol. But she was also known for having an air about her that only royalty could possess. One day, if this woman ever became Queen, she would be fulfilling a role the people believed God himself had chosen her for. And that tended to go to people's heads, especially when they grew up in over the top palaces dating back to the 1700s. So it was understandable that Hans was not exactly thrilled to be chosen to spend 24/7 with a Princess who probably despised him without ever having met him.

He scrolled through her security report on his laptop before retiring to bed, bright light illuminating the pitch-black room, and stopped when he came across her passport photo. Her eyes drew him in without even thinking -something about the way the blue grabbed him through the screen. If he had to be chained to someone all day every day, at least it was to a beautiful girl.

* * *

The following morning Hans was ready and waiting at Princess Elsa's door precisely at six AM, as instructed. It seemed a little early for a woman her age to be waking, but he complied without protest.

Hans raised his hand and knocked on the door three times, lightly but loud enough to be heard.

"Princess Elsa? I'm Hans Westergaard, your new head of security. Just doing my morning check in ma'am." Hans waited patiently and quirked a brow when he detected a scuffling sound, straightening his back once he heard her walking in his direction.

The door hastily flew open and the Princess, dressed in amazingly tight running gear, appeared with a rather perturbed look twisted about her face.

"New head of security? I wasn't told-" halting mid sentence when she laid her eyes on the striking young man, also wearing running gear and a Bluetooth earpiece. "W-who are you?" She stammered, taken aback by the muscular body so proudly on display in front of her. Insanely defined thighs, tapered torso, and she didn't have to look but knew he had a rock hard set of abs under his grey t-shirt. Whatever the academy was putting their recruits through was working wonderfully, that much she was sure of.

"Hans Westergaard, ma'am. New head of security," he repeated in a military sounding tone, giving her a respectful nod of his head. He didn't understand what her quandary with him was but guessed it has something to do with the fact he wasn't well into his forties and graying or balding yet.

Elsa stared for another good minute, eyes scrutinizing every inch of his Herculean body, and decided that although she didn't like the idea of having a bodyguard, this one might prove to be more tolerable than the others. On looks alone if nothing else. Eye candy that could hit a clean shot from a hundred yards away sounded like a good deal to her.

"Well, I don't know what the itinerary says for today but I usually start with a run most mornings. You _can_ run, can't you?" Teasing undercurrent flowing beneath her genial tone as slight magenta lips tugged into a wry smile.

"Yes, ma'am," Hans affirmed without so much as flinching, firmly holding his soldier-like stance with both hands clasped behind his back and feet planted precisely at shoulder width apart. "Top athlete in my class and I've run several marathons this year alone. I can run whatever distance you need to go."

"Hmm," Elsa hummed pleasantly and leaned against the doorjamb, impressed by his eloquent reply. And he didn't appear to be intimated by her in the least. She liked that. It made him more… _intriguing_. "After that I have an appointment at the spa." Hans resisted rolling his eyes. He knew part of watching a twenty-two year old woman would involved plenty of female related activities but wasn't exactly loving the idea of leaving high-stakes espionage to do so. He could be out planning operations with the best special ops teams in the country but instead he was going to be escorting the fair Princess around town for a day of pampering. _Excellent_. "Followed by some shopping, lunch, and, quite frankly, whatever else I feel like."

"Sounds great. Ready when you are, ma'am."

* * *

Hans followed behind Elsa at the standard two strides back, giving her a little bit of breathing room as she made her way out the iron front gates of the palace and onto the streets of the capitol. Initially Hans thought she would just jog around the palace grounds but Elsa capriciously bobbed and weaved through every cobblestone walkway in town. Nothing that Hans couldn't handle, but with so many civilians around, he had to stay on high alert. And what started out as a leisurely jog seemed to be turning into some kind of test, as Elsa randomly bolted around sharp corners at full fledged Olympic pace, causing Hans to have to think fast on his feet, literally. _She trying to lose me? _Chuckling to himself. She'd have to try much harder than that to throw him off his game.

No matter how hard she tried, he was able to keep up with her, without struggle, and hadn't even so much as broken a sweat. Not one single salty drop of perspiration on his sculpted face to be seen. That deemed him worthy enough in her book and she continued her run at a more casual speed, spending the rest of the time in the park rather than making Hans dodge the cars of the downtown roundabout.

The spa wasn't as bad as Hans thought it was going to be. First of all it smelt like soothing eucalyptus and peppermint, and the attendants provided him with all the cucumber infused water his heart desired. He spent most of the time waiting outside every treatment room Elsa went into. And when this woman went to the spa, she didn't hold back. She got almost every treatment and add-on available, having a team of people working on her at all times, except for when she had her hot stone massage and kicked everyone, besides the masseuse, out of the room. That was the one time she liked to relax as much as possible without a swarm of people hovering over her. Wondering which one of them was going tip off the media to her whereabouts first.

Hans had never been to a spa and wasn't exactly familiar with the flow of things. So when Elsa emerged from her last treatment, he figured they were done for the day and breathed a hearty sigh of relief. To which Elsa quickly corrected him and told him that she would be spending some time in the main relaxation area and probably hit the sauna before she left. The main relaxation room was normally restricted to women only, mainly because it was clothing optional, but Hans had permission to follow Elsa wherever she went.

"What are you doing?" She cut across sharply when he tried to follow her through the fogged-over doors of the steam infused room.

"My job is to follow you wherever you go, ma'am."

"None of the other guys followed me in here."

"Maybe that's why they didn't keep their job."

Elsa scowled, brows dipping low as she fixed her steely gaze on him. "They didn't keep their job because I don't like _cocky_ men telling me what I _can_ and _cannot_ do." The redhead remained unfazed, fighting back an unapologetic smile from creeping up his face.

"I'm under the King's orders to follow you at all times. I'll wait outside the sauna but I am entering this room, Princess." Elsa relented but not without an aggravated huff to voice her disapproval.

Hans adamantly followed her to the door of the vacant sauna and tried not to make any noticeable movement or noise when she tactfully slipped her robe off right in front of him, revealing her slender snow-white back and long flowing blonde hair, turning around to hand it to him with a seductive grin plastered on her smug face.

"Here," she honeyed innocently, lustrous lashes batting as she held out the robe hooked on two of her dainty fingers with an absurd amount of confidence.

Hans snatched the robe and quickly folded it over his arm, trying to keep his eyes focused on anything beside Elsa's burgeoning breasts and ridiculously toned physique. But Elsa refused to budge from her sultry pose and boldly stared at him like this was another one of her tests.

"Why are you not looking at me?" She purred, soft and coy, arching her chest out like she was trying to break him with her unabashed sense of sexuality. And it was working because Hans reluctantly started comparing her skin to fresh creamy milk, transfixed by its flawlessness as it glowed in the flickering candlelit room.

"Respectfully giving you your privacy," he resounded stoically, refusing to give her the satisfaction she sought in searching for his weakness. Fortunately for Hans, he knew that beauty was only skin deep and even though Elsa was breathtakingly gorgeous, it took a lot more than a hot body to get him to fall for girl like her. Just thinking about how high maintenance she must be was a turn off in itself.

"We're going to be with each other a lot and you're bound to see me naked on more than one occasion. Might as well get the awkwardness out of the way." A smile pulled across her lips as she seductively swept a section of her platinum mane over her shoulder and let it fall along the side of hourglass figure, framing her tight curves with its ethereal luster.

"I'm not made uncomfortable by nudity, ma'am. And I believe the sauna is available," pointing a finger to the awaiting cedar lined room just behind the blonde.

Furious at another failed attempt to bring him to his knees, Elsa twirled on her heel, hair nearly whipping Hans in the face like a blonde flog, and stormed into the sauna.

* * *

The day carried on and Elsa eventually gave up on her little tests, enjoying the ridiculous amount of shopping she was doing at the city's most expensive stores. Hans thought he would be forced to carry her bags around town in an act of shame but everything ended up being sent to palace, thankfully leaving his hands free and his ego intact.

Tired from her numerous dressing room changes and shoe fittings, Elsa decided to walk down a more obscure street in a less frequented area of the city, with Hans obediently trailing behind her.

"I want to go in here," she announced, stopping in front of a small shop and waited for Hans' approval. All stores and buildings had to be given clearance by him before she could enter.

"This is a bookstore," he said befuddled, raising a russet brow to the blonde with an expression that seemed to break from his normally professional guise -hint of a real person piercing through that industrial veil of his.

Sapphire eyes flicked up to the sign and back at Hans. "Appears so."

"You read?" He blurted before thinking, immediately wishing he could take the words back but burned in the heat of his embarrassment instead.

"I am the next in line to the throne of this kingdom. Of course I know how to read," she replied, thankfully not too harshly.

"I'm sorry. That's not what meant," swallowing his previous blunder with an apologetic hand resting on his chest. "This particular store sells only fantasy based fiction. Reading for _fun_," emphasizing the fun part of his quandary.

Well now Elsa was confused as to how Hans seemed to know so much about her secret hideaway.

"How do you know that?" Also dropping her regal veneer as she crossed her arms and took a step towards the suddenly more intriguing man with the harlequin eyes and daring sideburns.

"Because I come here all the time."

"As do I." Turns out Elsa was equally as shocked about Hans enjoying fantasy novels as much as he was to learn she had interests outside of shopping and manicures. "How come you've never seen me in here before?" As if everyone would notice a royal amongst the commoners.

"I normally don't notice anything around me once I'm here and have found a good book." The most genuine smile swept across Hans' lips and he instantly looked more handsome under the hanging sign of the bookshop than he had all day. Looks like this academy boy had some depth to him as well.

"Well, can we go in?" Elsa shrugged and eagerly eyed the ivy-covered entrance.

It wasn't part of his job but Hans felt emboldened to reach for the door and gallantly hold it open for the Princess. "By all means."

Elsa walked the narrow aisles of the quaint shop before casually plopping herself down between the historical and sci-fi sections, patting an enthusiastic hand on the floor for Hans to join her.

"Find anything good?" Scanning the towering stack of books between the two of them and taking the liberty to strike up some much need conversation with the bookworm of a blonde.

"Well, I just finished the last book of _A Song of Ice and Fire_ series by George R. R. Martin. I think _A Game of Thrones_ was my favorite. But I haven't found anything good to get into since then. His next two books in the series haven't come out yet and he's got me waiting on pins and needles."

"I bet it would make that author's day if he found out the Princess of Arendelle was waiting on 'pins and needles' for his next installment."

"I'm just like anyone else. I enjoy a good read," Elsa simpered and browsed a book on a nearby shelf.

"Do you like time travel?" Hans asked tentatively, feeling more comfortable in her presence.

"Possibly."

"Then you should try this," reaching over his shoulder and slipping a silver book from the shelf, placing into Elsa's hands.

"_Timeline_," she read aloud and studied the shiny armored knight on the cover. _This is what he likes. _She thought to herself. The thick paperback was a glimpse into the hidden world of Hans she'd never bothered to consider before, but urgently need to know more about.

Hans flipped the book over so that she could see the back. "It's about a group of history students that go back in time to save their professor. Fourteenth century France to be exact, and it's quite fascinating. Not exactly new, but it's got action, science, technology. Romance." Elsa's eyes drifted up from the scribbling on the back of the book and locked onto Hans'.

"I like romance," suddenly feeling like the space between them was rapidly shrinking and Elsa felt very aware of how close he was, how her heart had somehow sprung into a fervent canter.

Hans felt something clicking between them but he returned his attention back to the book. "I-It also has a lot of history and archaeology. Might be a change of pace from _A Game of Thrones_ but, I think you'd find it enjoyable. It's one of my favorites, next to _The Name of the Wind_."

"_Name of the_\- huh," she chuckled, amusement gracing her warming features.

"What's so funny?"

"_Name of the Wind_ is my favorite book. I keep it on my nightstand all the time because I love to go back and reread it so much. I also keep in on my tablet but I prefer the feel of a real book in my hands," smoothing her fingers over the binding of _Timeline_.

"Me too. Nothing like the real thing."

"Yeah."

A long moment of silence fell over the two. A moment of reflection for both, but more so for the blonde.

"I feel like a fool," she finally said, lips drawing into a bit of a frown.

"Why?"

"For the way I've treated you today. I didn't exactly give you a fair chance. I've never given any of my bodyguards a fair chance but I didn't think you'd be any different from the rest."

"But I am?"

"_Yes_, you are." She wouldn't admit to either one of them, but she'd never met anyone so candid before. Someone she found so much in common with and also had the most tempting constellation of freckles splashed across their cheeks. "Be honest, you think I'm this pompous little princess who knows nothing more than the fact that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth?" Elsa dropped her chin and waited for his answer.

Hans mouth fell open like a fish out of water and it took a second for the right words to come to him. "I wouldn't say _that_. You apparently know how to shop as well." They shared a laugh and it was eerie how well they were hitting it off, but they embraced it carelessly.

Elsa swallowed her pride and inched closer to the more relaxed bodyguard. "I think what I'm trying to say is… I'm sorry. For judging you and giving you such a hard time this morning. You not so bad." Her smile was so sweet and genuine that he forgave without hesitation.

"I believe apologies are in order from me as well. I thought you were a bit, vain. But I never would have guessed in a million years that you knew about his place or that we would have a similar taste in literature."

"How did you come to be such an avid reader?" Finding herself more curious about the redhead.

Hans drew in a deep breath, chest puffing out as she watched him with interest. "I've always loved to read. I actually wanted to be a writer for the longest time but the military was always my first dream. Until I was wounded. Shot right here in the middle of mission," pointing to his left shoulder as Elsa's face fell in horror, guilt pouring in as she deeply regretting not seeing there much more to this man than just merely being her paid protection.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea how brave you were. Or how tragically your military career had ended."

Hans waved it off. It wasn't exactly something he wanted to open up about just yet.

"During my recovery, I had plenty of time to read. And a little time to write. But the passion in my life had kind of withered away by then. Until I found this place. I never leave empty handed or without a smile on my face."

"That's a beautifully tragic story. Again, I'm so sorry I was wrong about you. Can we start fresh? I'm still going shopping again tomorrow but maybe this time it could be... different," she tried with an optimistic spark glinting he her oceanic orbs.

"It already is different. In the best way," he replied warmly.

* * *

As the weeks blurred into months, Hans and Elsa became more comfortable around each other. Something was blossoming between them but each one attributed it to their shared love of books and riveting conversations they shared each day.

Elsa continued to drag Hans to the spa and salon, but he did so with a smile on his face because he was able to appreciate the woman underneath all the glamour royal life thrust upon her.

Thursday became the day they stopped at the little bookshop and dove into the new arrivals and shared great finds of the past. It didn't take long before they developed inside jokes and could be more playful around each other.

At night, Hans would find himself lonelier than ever, missing her company and longing to hear her laugh tickle his ear.

Elsa would have a hard time falling asleep because she would replay their conversations in her head, loving how he was so open and responsive with her. Like it didn't matter that she was the Crown Princess. Even though he rarely addressed her by name, she was simply just Elsa to him. And he was quickly become her best friend.

* * *

The annual winter ball had finally arrived and after weeks of trips to the dressmaker's, Hans was going to witness Elsa in full royal action for the first time.

Foreign dignitaries and neighboring royals packed the ballroom in their fancy dresses and black coats, royal protocol followed to a T. Music filled the air and swirled with the delightful smells of the dessert table not too far out of Hans reach on the outskirts of the cream colored hall.

Hans had never been more thankful that his job gave him full, unadulterated permission to stare at Elsa every second of every day without question. The same couldn't be said for the blonde who kept stealing a peek at him while she tried to socialize with the other nobility and honored guests crammed inside the grand ballroom.

The cat and mouse game of innocuous eye glances continued until Elsa was able to excuse herself from the conversation long enough to make her way over to Hans. She was a vision to behold in her tight fitting dress. The hues chroma bursting with a variation of deep aqua and sky blue, sparkling like a diamond under the golden rays of the elaborate chandeliers.

Hans didn't know if it was crystals or rhinestone on her dress but she looked liked winter in couture gown as she glided across the floor and approached him with the most beguiling smile, cheeks raised high and tinted a becoming shade of rose over her translucent freckles.

"Hello, Hans," Elsa beamed cheerfully and assumed a stance worthy of her grace and beauty.

The bodyguard nodded respectfully, maintaining his perfect posture that made him appear so strong and stoic. "Good evening, your majesty." Her eyebrows bounced at the formal greeting, longing for the familiarity of their more casual banter. Not more than 24 hours ago, Elsa was dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, showing off her father's collection of first edition books in the palace library. Now here they were, Princess and bodyguard trying to breach the social barriers and remain simply Hans and Elsa to each other.

"I see you can't seem to take your eyes off me tonight," she continued playfully, pushing the boundaries just a hair, despite being in such a public setting.

"It's my job," Hans replied with a suggestive grin. "I saw you catching a few glances at me."

"It's my prerogative," swaying her weight from one hip to the other. That came out way more flirtatious than she ever intended. Overshooting casual banter by a mile and landing herself in a place where she had to check and make sure she wasn't flashing him bedroom eyes or something more advantageous. That strange fluttering feeling kicked in again, where her heart felt it was skipping rope and a vortex of butterflies was whirling within her stomach. Noticing how devilishly handsome he appeared in his crisp black tuxedo, bowtie masterfully tied and looking very James Bond.

"It's a shame you're on the clock. I would have loved to have seen you in your uniform. Not that the tux isn't remarkable." There was a compliment in there, she was sure if it. Trying to balance friendly conversation and this odd rush of nerves was slightly disorientating to Elsa.

"You look enchanting as well ma'am." On the outside Hans appeared to be handling the quasi-sexual tension better than her. His eyes studied the royal red sash draped across her torso and the weighty star medallion pinned at her left breast, denoting the orders of the crown the King had bestowed upon her when she came of age at 18. Along with the shiny gold tiara situated atop her heavenly chignon, everything was a glaring reminder that although they were always in the same room, they were from two very different worlds.

She was a princess destined to be queen. And he was merely a wounded veteran salvaging what was left of his broken dreams. But he cared for her, more so every day. The definition of the specific feeling still eluded him but it was there. Not just the will to protect her, but also the will to know her better. To search even deeper behind that icy facade and know the true Elsa.

"You finish chapter 27?" Elsa asked.

"I did."

"And did you cry like a baby?"

"If by 'cry like a baby,' you mean went out, did some target practice and shot three rounds of clay pigeons, then yes." Hans chuckled and Elsa laughed, and he may have felt a rush of something more than the usual appreciation for her when she demurely held a gloved hand up to her mouth to stifle the sound.

"It gets better. I promise," her smile stretching wider as Hans began to panic over what this new version of Elsa was doing to him.

"You think about my question?" Attempting to distract himself from her impossibly adorable demeanor.

"Which one?"

"The one about what kind of time machine you'd like to have. You know, if you could have one and they existed."

Elsa's eyes rolled up in thought. "I definitely don't want one like the one in _Timeline_, where you come out a facsimile of yourself."

"I agree. DeLorean is much more my style," flashing her his best debonair smile.

"Although I love _Back to the Future_, I think I'd rather have something more modern like a Lamborghini. For one thing, it would take a lot less time to get to 88 miles per hour."

"Very true." More laughter broke out, filling the space between them and catching the attention of the King.

"Elsa, dear. You're neglecting your guests," he said in a way that she knew was disapproving of her behavior. And she couldn't very well talk to Hans all evening. No matter how badly she wanted to.

"Yes, Papa."

"We'll talk later," Hans murmured under his breath as Elsa began to walk away before turning back to him. Giving him a quick flash of those razor sharp shoulder blades peeking out from the sheer mantle of her gown.

"You know, it's funny how there are over a hundred people here and there's no one I'd rather talk to than you."

His heart warmed in that moment, flooding with an indescribable emotion and Hans was pretty sure she'd cast some sort of spell on him at that point. "The feeling is mutual, ma'am."

* * *

The following day Elsa was expectantly called into her father's private office. He sat behind his gargantuan desk and looked at her with a concern only a parent could possess.

"Elsa," he began gently. "What's going on between you and officer Westergaard? You two were _very_ talkative at the ball last night," accusing eyes falling to his daughter.

Elsa sat across from him, legs crossed at the ankle, and met his question with the most confused look and a tilt of her head. "We're just friends. We like to talk about books is all."

"Nothing more?" He prodded.

"No, but what would the problem be if there were?"

His parental tone was abandoned for the more serious one he used with his council. "It's not appropriate to be romantically involved with the staff," he said sharply, eyes narrowing at his young princess as her mouth tumbled open, completely aghast by the accusation.

"He's _not_ staff, technically. He's head of security. And has served this country in war," she shot back heatedly.

"It makes no difference. While this isn't the 18th century, and you're not required to marry a royal, you _are_ expected to marry someone from the aristocracy."

Blonde bangs fell out of place as Elsa shook her head in shock. "Wait, marriage? I'm not _marrying_ Hans. I'm not even involved with him. And that is absurd. The British monarchy doesn't have that rule. Prince William married a woman he met at a fashion show in college. Who wasn't even from the aristocracy. She paraded down a runway in a bikini, daughter of party suppliers, and married him with the Queen's blessing." With that, Elsa confidently folded her arms and sat back in her chair with an irritated glare. She wasn't even aware of how aggressively she was defending herself to her father. Making her look all the more guilty of carrying on a relationship that went beyond friends with Hans, even if they really weren't.

"They are not us," the King snapped, still cool and mostly calm. "And even if you're not involved with him, it's not appropriate to fraternize with hired help the way you have been."

"We're just friendly. That's what friends do," Elsa insisted. "You wanted me to like this one and now that I do, you have a problem with it? It's damn if I do and damn if I don't."

The King ran his fingers over his mustache as he let her words wash over him. She was right. He had been the one to convince his wife to agree to Hans and even picked him specifically because of his age. Inadvertently playing matchmaker but was willing to give Elsa a chance to prove him wrong.

"Fine. Friends. But make sure it doesn't go beyond that, he warned with a stiff finger.

"Yes, Papa."

* * *

_So as indicated, this is part one. Part two is coming up very shortly and is VERY M. I'll just say that. I don't ask for reviews, but I very much appreciate the ones that have been coming in. Thank you and stay tuned! _

_Fun fact: This Palace is based on the Royal Palace in Oslo, Norway- keeping with the Norwegian spirit of the film._


	8. By My Side: Part ll

_Part two! Here we go. This two shot ended up being 13,000 words. Phew! This one has smut but it's fitting to the piece. Enjoy._

* * *

Things got more complicated after the talk with Elsa's father. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that she and Hans were just friends, it left her with this feeling of dissatisfaction she just couldn't shake. As if the word _friends_ somehow didn't capture the true essence of how she was feeling. And the more she reflected on the events of the last few months, the more she found herself faced with the awful truth.

They had been nothing more than friends at one time but Elsa couldn't pinpoint the exact moment things moved beyond that. If friendship was the basis of a good relationship, maybe they were headed down this path this entire time. How could she not see it? If she dismissed the fact that she was a princess and he was her bodyguard, and simply looked at themselves as just a man and a woman, everything thing made sense.

They may have seemed like an odd pairing at the start but they were anything but now. Where he was rough, she was smooth. Where she was weak, he was strong. Two jagged pieces that appeared to be so very different at first glance, but fit so perfectly together with time.

The more Elsa thought about it, the more she realized her true feeling had really come to fruition at the ball. That unexplainable urge she'd been feeling was desire. A deep yearning that was secretly blooming between them. She knew Hans had to have felt it too. The way his eyes had swept over her form that night and sent a shiver up her spine, was anything but friendly. It was sensual. And she was guilty of the same behavior. Friends complimented each other on their outfits, but they didn't then wish to run their hands over the silky gunmetal gray waistcoat hiding beneath their jacket, imagining the shape and ridge of every muscle that lay mysteriously under all that formal wear.

If she'd felt that flicker of electricity that night, it was probably because Hans was trying his hardest keep his mind focused on their conversation and off of how drop dead gorgeous she'd looked. The dress was stunning. Her hair, impeccable. But it was the way she carried herself with such grace and confidence that made him want to sweep her off her feet and lead her in a dance before kissing her on those rubescent lips. That was definitely _not_ how friends thought of each other.

Hans laughed to himself when he thought about what had transpired at the ball. How this had all started over books. Or maybe it started with the bullet wound. And _then_ the books. And then the laughter and the jokes and the conversation at the winter ball. That infernal ball was where everything changed. And why? He kept asking himself. Because they both got dressed up that night and came off as more appealing? Or was it because they were in an arena where they were supposed to be kept away from each other? Elsa's father had been displeased with her for so much as talking to Hans. Anything more would have been downright scandalous amongst that crowd.

The worst part about being attached to someone 24/7 was that Elsa couldn't get a break from Hans to seriously think about if she was possibly falling for him, against the King's orders.

Elsa tried to take a walk around the palace grounds but, of course, Hans followed her. And every time she asked herself if she really did feel something for him, she'd glance over her shoulder and find Hans giving her the warmest smile that made her feel like she was going to melt. Yep, she felt something for him all right.

The walk tuned into a brisk run and took them through the arteries of the city, hoping a change of scenery would clear her frazzled head. When they made their way down a small side street, there was a cute little brunette girl in front of a flower shop with her mother, emphatically waving and yelling, "Princess Elsa! Princess Elsa!"

As if Hans couldn't love her anymore, the woman he once thought was so shallow and vapid, his heart melted once Elsa stopped mid sprint and backtracked to greet the little girl. Wondrous hazel eyes peered up at the princess, as if Elsa was the embodiment of every fairytale known to man. Beautiful, kind, and royal.

Elsa knelt down to her level and chatted with the awestruck girl for a few moments, Hans grinning endlessly at the heartwarming exchange.

"Oh, my!" The little girl exclaimed, wide eyes scanning Hans' towering frame. The girl leaned in and whispered to Elsa, "Is he your prince?"

The Princess' lips quirked into that beautiful 'o' shape Hans adored so much, as she thought of a dignified way to reply.

Elsa sullenly shook her head. "No. He watches out for me and protects me."

"Oh, like a knight! Well, he's _very_ handsome."

"Why thank you!" Hans chirped unexpectedly, getting a giggle from the ladies.

The two bid the little girl a good day and soon returned to the palace grounds. _Is he your prince? _A question that stuck with Elsa the rest of the day and sent her into solitude.

* * *

Idunn had searched the entire familial wing of the palace before she finally found Elsa alone in her room, looking rather melancholic for such a lovely day outside. She left the girl to her thoughts but eventually decided to intervene when Elsa missed lunch in the family dining hall.

"You've been staring out the window for two hours now. If you're waiting for an invasion, I regret to inform you, those don't really happen anymore."

Elsa turned in her chair and smiled dolefully as she watched her mother elegantly enter the room and take up the seat beside her.

"Where's Hans?"

"I gave him the rest of the day off. I'm not going anywhere and I needed time to think."

"What's troubling you, my love?" The Queen asked with soft concern.

"I made a promise to papa that I can't keep."

"Hmmm," the older woman hummed and played with the dangling braid at the back of her daughter's neck, remembering how she used to weave those very same locks herself when Elsa was still a little girl. How time had flown.

"Elsa, I know that you're the kind of person when torn between a promise to your father

and something else, that something else must be pretty important." She took the lingering blink and tightening of her lips as a yes from the blonde. "You're much too young to be carrying the weight of a crown that's not yet placed upon your head. When you're well past my age, you can bear all of the burdens that come with being queen. In the mean time, as much as I love your father, the heart is not so easily changed. And, in my experience, much more rewarding to follow." Idunn had no idea what was really bothering Elsa, but she didn't need to. Matters of the head clashing with the heart were usually what sent Elsa into this kind of solitary contemplation.

"Thank you, mama. I needed to hear that."

Idunn kissed her daughter on her pillow-soft head, patted her on the shoulder, and had Elsa's dinner sent up to her room that night so that she didn't think so hard on an empty stomach.

* * *

The following day had brought a light rain to the kingdom, blanketing it in a sheet of gray. Umbrellas filled the streets of the city faster than the water shooting down its gutters.

It took a lot more than rain to keep Elsa away from her scheduled pampering and shopping. She was also hoping a bit of routine would get things back on track with Hans, and so they braved the weather and headed out.

They picked up coffee at her regular place and hit all the usual high-end stores. But something was very different this day. There was hardly any conversation between the two of them, and Hans started to feel... like a bodyguard. Nothing more. Elsa was closed off and unapproachable and he'd wondered what he'd done to make her grow so distant.

Ambling along under a heavy mist, Hans put forth his best effort to break the ice. "I liked the red strappy pair you bought. They'll be great for the opening night at the opera." Hans tried but was met with a quiet bob of Elsa's blonde head.

She felt awful. She didn't even know how to begin to act around him now and she was terribly afraid that any little hint of affection would cause her to defying her father. Hans had just complimented her shoes. How much more desperate for her attention could the man be? And shutting him out would only lead to even more pent up sexual tension anyways, a battle she would surely lose. Especially with his hair all slicked back and gorgeously wet from the rain. Getting home to her room as soon as possible seemed like the best option, so she bolted up the main avenue towards the palace as fast as she could; heeled boots slapping against the wet city sidewalk out in front of Hans as the sky continued to weep.

"Wait. Where are you going?" Gently pulling her back by the arm. "It's Thursday. Are we not going to the bookstore like we do every week?" Pointing a hand out towards the small street they usually made a right at.

"I don't feel like going today," Elsa mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with Hans and shoved her hands inside her coat pockets instead.

Hans' brows furrowed at her odd behavior. "Are you sick? It's not like you to pass this up." His hands rested on her shoulders and the contact sent Elsa reeling.

Her mother was right. She couldn't change her heart to save her life. The crossroads she'd been so desperately trying to avoid were now thrust upon her and all she could see was Hans. Sweet, gallant Hans, with the deepest look of concern etched on his handsome face.

"I-" Elsa quavered, squeezing her eyes shut as she stood at the precipice and forced herself to make a decision. This wasn't just about going to the bookstore. This was about so much more.

"And we were going to share quotes today. I brought mine." She'd forgotten all about the idea to bring quotes, her attempt to branch their interests out from fantasy novels to other inspirational works.

Hans pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it up as proof. The written word. Their passion. Their bond. And how could she say no? He'd already suffered a wound to the shoulder. She couldn't be responsible for another to his heart.

"Okay," she whispered, voice barely reaching over the pattering drizzle still lofting over the city. "Let's go inside."

* * *

Back in their usual corner, surrounded by their latest finds, things started to fall back into place as the two shucked of their rainwear and swapped notes on their latest chapters.

When it was time to read their quotes, Elsa volunteered to go first but felt a rush of trepidation when she silently read it to herself beforehand, not realizing she'd chosen one on love _and _life, even though the theme was just simply life. _What perfect timing._

She held the paper in her hand, chewing on her lip for a brief moment before finally clearing her throat.

"_'Life is the flower of which love is the honey._' Victor Hugo," cheeks blooming a bright magenta as she looked up through her lashes for his reaction.

"Short and sweet. I like it. Beautiful." Hans had saved her the humiliation that could have unfolded and Elsa felt like she'd dodge a huge bullet. Or blown a really great opportunity.

Next, Hans unfolded his paper and read his quote to Elsa, making sure to glance up at her while he did so.

"_'Always fall in love with what you're asked to accept. Take what is given, and make it over your way. My aim in life has always been to hold my own with whatever's going. Not against: with_.' Robert Frost."

_Fall in love with what you're asked to accept._

Poetic justice in its finest for Hans.

"That's beautiful," Elsa gushed and kept her eyes on his hands. "What made you pick that one?"

"When I read it, it made me think of this job. How I wasn't thrilled about leaving intelligence operations to follow a princess around all day. No offense," holding up a hand between them. Elsa smiled shyly and shook her head, knowing he meant no harm. "But with a change of perspective, I rather like it now."

"You _like_ it? You like watching me try on thirty pairs of shoes?" Letting a giggle slip out.

"It's not the highlight of my day, no. But you're more than I'd ever thought you'd be. Literature is my passion and I've never met someone I shared that with. I like our talks. I like our time together. I like _you_. Very much."

He hadn't been trying to woo her just then but Hans had Elsa hook, line, and sinker. Her heart was racing, swelling to its limits and she wasn't strong enough to hold herself back any longer.

"You're such a mystery to me," leaning towards him as her eyes traced the thick path of his sideburns down to his lips. "But what I do know about you, I'm... I'm..." _Falling in love with_ never made past Elsa's lips before they were fitted between Hans', a chaste kiss that lingered before he placed his hand along her slender white neck and adjusted his mouth to take on more of hers. His nose pressed lightly into the side of her cheek and Elsa made a small noise of satisfaction against his lips before they withdrew.

"You kissed me back?" She queried breathlessly, hands amorously coming to his chest like they had wanted to at the ball so many nights ago.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to. I've _been_ wanting to." At that, Elsa recoiled back into her space, eyebrows aggressively bunched together. "Should I not have? You seem upset."

She drew in a small breath as her eyes gazed into the purest of green. "My father asked me the other morning what was going on between us and I said we were friends. Because that's how I felt." Hans' lips downturned into a hint of a frown. "That's how I _thought_ I felt," saving the frown. "Until he told me it couldn't be more than that. That I'm supposed to date the aristocracy. But clearly, I feel much more than friendship with you."

The frown was back and deeper this time, much to Elsa's dismay. "He doesn't want you involved with me." Hans stated it as a fact instead of a question. "I can't say I don't understand where he's coming from. I do." It hurt to feel so strongly for a woman he couldn't have. But Elsa pushed all those thoughts out of his head when she regained her confidence and came to sit comfortably in his lap, like she'd belonged there this whole time, placing his arms around her back as her hands gently framed his face.

"Well, I am my own woman, and _I_ chose who I want to be involved with. And I don't regret kissing you," pecking him teasingly on the lips. "Not for one second." This time Hans surged forward and kissed her deeply, passionately in the same spot he'd been falling in love with her over the past months.

Her mother was right. Following her heart was like growing wings. She was free, but more importantly, she was his.

* * *

Darkness fell upon the capital the following night, as the streets started to grind to a halt and the foot traffic thinned to only those who dared to brave the frigid winter air.

Hans had just finished settling down for the evening. He'd done his nightly workout at the gym and snuck in time for a quick swim in the lap pool before reading a few chapters from his latest book, recommended by Elsa of course. Sleep called to him and he eventually put his bookmark in and turned out the light. Mentally preparing himself for the busy schedule of meetings Elsa had the next day. She was co-chairing the arts festival for the first time and was wildly intent on making it the talk of the town.

On the other side of the three hundred year old wall, the blonde tossed and turned as the sandman refused to pay her a visit. That kiss from the bookshop lingered bittersweet on her lips, repeatedly running her fingers over the crimson skin just to recall the sparks that had flown between them. Being commanded to quash her feelings for Hans only made them increase exponentially, asymptotic lines surging towards the heavens, until she couldn't go a minute without thinking about him. Recalling how his steady hands had felt along her neck as he held her hungering lips to his.

After their stolen kisses at the bookshop, Elsa didn't know what to make of everything. She'd told her father they were just friends, and they weren't. And she had told herself she only was just taken with him, intrigued by him, and she wasn't. With Hans just next-door, so close yet so far away, she silently confessed to herself that what was developing between them was something purely romantic. She was in love with him. And she had no idea if he felt as deeply about her. He always kept his feelings so close to himself, never breaching the invisible line between them on his on accord. She'd have to take the initiative herself.

Hans was broaching on sleep, his breath slow and drawn out with the sheets tucked up around his exposed ribs, when he heard the sound of footsteps pitter-pattering down the hall. Much too light for them to belong to anyone else who might also be up at this late hour.

The doorknob gave off a dull rattle as a ghostly white figure appeared before him, moonlight flooding in through the windows revealing a worrisome Elsa in nothing but a slip of a silk nightgown as she tip-toed across the room towards his bed.

"Elsa?" Hans called out softly. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't extremely unusual for Elsa to wander into his bedroom. She often came by before bedtime to gush over their books or just simply rehash the day in a more humorous manner. But she'd never crossed his threshold _this_ late. And never looking so troubled.

She didn't say a word as she lifted the blankets and slid into the creaking bed, right up next to him. Also not something she normally did, but he welcomed her into his open arms, snuggling her to his chest like a couple of nesting dolls. He figured if they'd kissed, cuddling in bed was something that was on the horizon.

Having Hans this close vanquished her forlorn frown as Elsa brought her face close and dotingly rubbed the tip her nose against his, lips locking not long after.

"Something the matter?" He would have thought the idea of Elsa being in his bed would have unnerved him but it didn't. It felt natural to both. Having her next to him felt so incredibly right.

"When I kissed you the other day, did it mean anything to you? I mean, I know there's something here," eyes motioning between them. "But am I the only one feeling it?"

"No. You're not. I never expected to fall for you, but here I am. Or here _we_ are, I should say."

"Then why do you hold yourself back?" She asked with a tilt of her head, blonde bangs swishing into her eye line.

"Because as much as you want me to forget, I work for the royal family, and my job is to protect you. This slightly complicates things but I think more for you than me. I don't want to rush you."

"Rush me?" Raising her voice slightly. "I'm dying every minute you're not touching me these days." Granting her wish, Hans dropped a hand to her side and began to caress her, his thumb making slow, seductive passes over the jut her hipbone. She shivered at the intimate touch and was even more overwhelmed by the searching feet that began rubbing against her own under the covers. "So you feel something, too?"

"Very much," letting his lips do the talking as they thoroughly convinced Elsa. He didn't just kiss her, his hand trailed along her neck with a feather-light touch and proceeded down through the center of her body, silky caresses over delicate pearlescent skin that stifled her shallow breathing. Between her breasts and along her stomach, until he reached under her nightgown and smoothed a thumb over the dip of her belly button. That was all it took to inflame the burn smoldering inside of Elsa. A desire that had been growing and was now consuming her entirely.

Changing their position, Elsa swung her leg over Hans' hips, rolling him onto his back as she settled herself on her perch above him.

Illuminated by nothing but the light of a pale winter's moon, Hans' eyes widened to their fullest as Elsa caught the hem of her nightgown between her fingers and pulled it over her head. She was completely nude, nothing but smooth stretches of powder-white skin and two long stalks of gold-blonde hair draped over her shoulders like a pair of cascading waterfalls. He'd never seen her hair down like this before, looking so naturally beautiful without all of the regalia and formality in their way.

"Take these off," snapping the band of his black boxer-briefs. Without hesitation, Hans lifted his hips and kicked the garment into the sheets. Elsa's eyes glowed like she was eyeing a heavenly feast; hungry for a chance to express herself the way her body so desperately yearned to.

He was always such an enigma. But laying before her, there were no more secrets between them as she rushed to drape her body over his, kissing his chest and roving her hands over his chiseled pecs and rippled obliques while Hans savored the drag of hardening nipples over the length of his torso.

As she worked her way back up his body, the light caught a shimmering spot on his shoulder and she made her way over to tenderly kiss the scar of his battle wound. A light red circle about the width of a quarter marred the underside on his right deltoid. Tissue-soft skin that was a grave marker of his hopes and dreams.

She couldn't heal the past but her lips on that spot made him realize he had an entirely new chance. Maybe even a dream, right in his arms. Hope that everything happened for a reason. Searching palms found solace against the narrow of her slender back as she kissed away his pain.

"Elsa, are you sure about this?" Making certain she wasn't leaping into something she's later regret, but that he couldn't deny he also wanted very much.

Months of flirting and bonding and having the deepest heartfelt conversations, could only lead to one thing. Especially when it felt so mutual and effortless. The seeds for this moment had been planted the day they met and unexpectedly grown into something that reached far beyond camaraderie.

"I want you," warm breath rushing over his prickling skin, determined and never more sure of herself; finding him fully aroused between her thighs. There was no turning back, not that either of them wanted to, as she wrapped her hand around his hardened length and guided him inside her, releasing a moan that hitched in the back of her throat before finally bursting out into the night.

She started slowly, giving herself time to adjust and relish the slick glide of him stretching her gloriously wide as she moaned in pleasure. A powerful wave of emotion crashed over her, knocking her over so that she was hovering just a few inches above his face, close enough to seal their lips together as their hips found a gentle pace.

She was giving herself to him, and Hans could feel his desire to be closer to her with every stilted shutter of her breath. This was how she truly felt, and it was enough to unleash the stewing want he'd been denying himself of, until now.

A hot hand splayed over her tailbone, fingers flexing and pushing, driving himself deep within her as his hips canted up to meet hers with an unbridled urgency. He'd be damned if she was going to do all the work on her own. She may have initiated this, but he wanted her just as bad as she did him. Wanted to please her and experience a side of her few ever got to know as he opened himself up in return. Their bodies moved in harmony as Elsa reluctantly tore her lips away from Hans' to gasp for air and sing out in pleasure.

"I love you," she breathed into his mouth, followed by a sharp inhale. Releasing the words made her feel like she may actually cry, from happiness if anything. Heart threatening to burst the moment she let all expectations fall away and embraced fate's driving force.

Their friction increased, faster and messier as there were no more cards left on the table. The bliss of their lovemaking resonating with the love in their hearts. Transcending titles and bloodlines. Boundless and free.

"I love you, too, Elsa. I love you. I _love_ you."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Hans flipped her over onto her back, the blonde yelping in surprise, and gave his all as they made love in his tiny bed. Hands that had held weapons of protection now gently caressed the silken curves of her body, running the length of her thigh and opening her up to him even more with a push of her knee.

He was fire hot as he pushed into her, thick and filling to the point where she feared she'd scream in rapture. Once on top, he took her with all the chivalry she'd ever expected of him, lacing their fingers together with one of their hands so that they could be connected in as many places as possible. He was strong and powerful, yet loving and attentive. He kissed her neck and suckled her rose tipped nipples, swearing that her soft cries were going to cause his heart to explode.

She wasn't a princess with him like this. She was this beautifully vulnerable woman who had earned passage into his heart. The one had come to know him like no one else ever had. Who made his pulse race while healing the scars of the past. She was his beacon in a world that had grown dark. His light. His everything.

She keened sweetly against the shell of his ear, scratching his back and ruffling his hair, as the passion burned like an eternal flame between them. She scanned down his body, astonished at the work of his muscles, contracting and releasing under taunt skin with each thrust of his hips.

Hans' physical appeal was nothing new to Elsa; it had come to her attention in the first few seconds of meeting. What made this moment so special was the man she had come to know underneath the military sculpted perfection of his exterior. She'd fallen for his mind, his insight. The insufferable jokes. Their witty repartees. His uncanny ability to be tough as nails one minute and emotionally vulnerable the next. An enigma. A labyrinth of a man. And she was willing to spend as long as it took to discover all of him.

Han's virile movements were the hot-wire to her nerve endings and ardent ache grew between them, building, glowing into brilliance unknown. Elsa's moans dropped into a more frantic register and her eyes fluttered shut, serenading to the surge of an enormous build of energy and heat. She elongated her spine, every fiber of her being pulling tight against him as her cries crescendoed into the dense night air. A quake of her hips and Elsa was soaring, ebbing and flowing to the crash of her release with Hans as her anchor.

"Hans, Hans," she moaned joyously with each ripple of pleasure, squeezing around him like even her body was never going to let him go. Hans cheeks were flushed with a candy-apple red, sweating and grunting as he eased his thrusts, knowing she was probably oversensitive now.

Drowning in the aftermath of her peak, Elsa enjoyed the look of bliss aglow on Hans' face. He groaned next to her ear, abandoning himself to his own release as his pleasure crested. "Elsa… Elsa… Ahhh," the only words that would leave his lips as he slowed his pace and kissed her ever so softly.

Their movements came to a standstill but neither refused to move, choosing instead to stay tangled together in a mess of limbs and relish the feeling of oneness.

* * *

Morning came and Hans awoke to a beautiful blonde fast asleep in his embrace. He could feel her fragile breath tickling his arm hair but he dared not move for fear of waking her from her repose. She was as peaceful as an angel while she slept, and entirely his. He placed a secret kiss to her temple and forehead, smiling to himself as he held something very special in his arms.

His exuding glee must have been subliminally noticeable because Elsa soon began to stir, arching her back as she stretched and then resumed the perfect spoon formation they'd been in before, her rear pressed nicely against his front.

"Morning," she said through a beaming smile, eyes still closed and body warm from sleep.

"Morning," lacing her neck with two wet kisses and a nibble on her earlobe. The feel of his lips on her was too much to stay asleep for, so Elsa rolled over in his arms and brought a hand to his face, guiding those sideburns down to spoil her lips with a few morning kisses, which for Elsa, included a lovely hint of tongue.

"Last night was-"

"- was great. I want more," Elsa purred with a smirk curling up the corner of her mouth.

Hans perked his ears to get a sense of how many people were already up and about but the place was dead silent, choosing to capture her lips in a deep kiss that let her know he too wanted more. Now.

"Mmmm," she squeaked, more like she just remembered something than a pleasurable sound. "I can't. I want to but I can't. I have to get ready for the meeting with the arts council today. We have a long day of festival planning ahead of us."

"_You_ do. I just make sure you're safe in the process," he jived but was forgiven with another press of her sultry lips.

"Tonight maybe? If we can wait that long." She didn't trust her own urges at this point.

"Okay." The feverish kissing quieted down and the feeling of a soothing embrace enraptured them. Hans swept his eyes over Elsa's freckles, silently vowing to love each one, as Elsa brushed her fingertips through his fiery hair.

"I just wanted to be clear that... I'm well aware of what my reputation is -that I could have any man that I want and, most of the time, people think I do. That's not true and that's not what this is." Hans listened intently as she paused to take in a breath. "Last night was because I couldn't keep how I felt about you inside any longer. I do love you."

"I know that. I love you, too. _This_... you," skimming the back of his hand over her cheek. "You make me so happy. I don't even mind putting up with your mani pedis." Elsa wrinkled her nose at his jab and poked him in the rib. Hans tickled her in return but only so that he could get her back into that glorious spoon position. Elsa's settled back against his body, using his arm as a pillow as her eyes drifted up to the photo of the dun colored Fjord horse she only asked about once before on his desk.

"When do I get to meet this Sitron I know so little about?" Hans pulled his attention away from the celestial smell of Elsa's hair and looked up the photo.

"He's at my parents ranch. If you're willing to brave my family, you can see him any time."

"I love you. Why wouldn't I love your family?"

"I have twelve brothers and my closest companion is a horse. And you," kissing her head. "They're just, not like me." She felt his breathing still, sensing family was a sore subject for him. One that she wouldn't press. Not now anyhow.

"We should have him brought here. We have a stable. And I'd love to ride with you. He'd be taken well care of."

Hans was quiet for a long time. "You would do that for me?"

Breaking the spoon, Elsa turned and placed a hand along the line of Han's jaw. "Right now, I'd do anything for you."

"Why do love me so much?" A smile touched her lips, warming his heart.

"How can I not?" Sapphire eyes lost themselves in his brilliant gaze, lidding closed once Hans captured her lips in a soft kiss, cherishing the wonder of the man who was holding her so close. Hoping he'd never let go.

She kissed him back harder, his hands fleeing to her hips and pulling her flush against him, things quickly heading down the same road as last night.

"Oh, I knew you were trouble," playfully pinching Hans' arm as they both tried to stop themselves. Elsa successfully pried her body away and had one foot on the floor when Hans pulled her down on top of him. "Tonight," she giggled and placed a sturdy hand on his chest to aid in their separation. "Tonight, I promise," coming back in for a series of quick kisses before lifting herself off the bed entirely and slipped her nightgown back on. "I have to get ready. See you in a little bit."

* * *

The breakfast table was filled with a typical Scandinavian spread. Cold meats, cheese, and pastries covered the table as Elsa decided to take her tea with extra sugar that morning and indulge in some of the Danishes she normally didn't have the stomach for. Good sex made a girl want to eat, apparently. The King and Queen sat at the other end of the oblong table, entirely aware of the dramatic shift in their daughter's mood and utterly blinded by her persistent grinning.

Somewhere between Elsa's second and third Danish, the King's personal secretary entered and laid a copy of the morning's gossip paper just to left of his plate. "Your majesty. I thought you should see this," the woman said quickly and sprinted out of the room like she'd just detonated a bomb.

The King's eyes drifted down to the paper and up to his jovial daughter, hands angrily clenching around the white linen napkin in his lap.

"Elsa," he snapped coarsely, breaking her out of her sugary high as she finished her bite and quickly swallowed with a painful gulp. "What is the meaning of this?" Flipping the paper with a number of large photos of her and Hans kissing at the bookstore. It wasn't just the paparazzi she had to look out for. Anyone with a phone these days was a threat to her privacy.

"Papa-"

"I told you_ not_ to get involved with him. And you deliberately disobeyed me. This is not what I consider _friends_, Elsa," ignoring the hand that had flown over the blonde's mouth as she tried to hold back her tears. "This is not behavior becoming of a future queen."

"I'm sorry," she muffled from under her trembling hand, trying her best to maintain her composure under his fire.

"He's an officer!" Losing control as tear streamed down Elsa's cheeks.

"Agdar, that's enough," the Queen said rather peacefully. Protective mother trumped royal duty in her book. And it didn't take her long to figure out that Hans had been the promise Elsa had been brooding over the other day.

"No, Idunn. I strictly forbade her from this behavior and-"

"You only drove them closer together," cutting her husband off.

"Obviously! She's gallivanting around town with hired help doing God knows what other deplorable things."

"Papa, no," Elsa implored. "It's not like that," more tears spilling from her morose blue eyes.

"Then explain it to me," he demanded.

It took her longer than she'd hoped to gather herself, but when she did, she met her father's eyes and looked deep within them.

"I love him."

The Queen laid a calming hand over her husband's, gaining his attention. "You are a powerful man. But you cannot control something like this. You cannot command her not to love someone if she already does." The tenseness in his features began to melt away, seeing how serious Elsa was about this boy. "Look at her." His eyes searched across the table to the blonde. "I know you will do the right thing... because you love your daughter. She's not _just_ a princess. She's not just the future queen. She's human. And she's also a young woman who can't fight what her heart tells her it wants."

His eyes shifted from Elsa down to the larger than life photographs on the paper. As furious as he was, he could see that what his daughter said was true. These weren't garish displays of raunchy public affection. These were two young people, who _thought _they were in private, sharing a splendid kiss that reflected something sacred, not anything lustful or frivolous.

"You love him?" Understanding pushing through his stern tone.

"Yes. Very much," shifting in her chair and assuming proper posture as pride swelled inside her chest.

"And you don't care that he's merely an officer?"

"I love him because of that. He's disciplined. And far more respectable than any royals I've come across."

The Queen sighed and patted Agdar's hand. "They're not getting married Agdar, let her be. And if they do, he's a respectable choice."

With his wife and daughter standing as a united front, he couldn't bear to be the villain in Elsa's life. And Idunn had a point. Elsa wasn't asking for him to bless her marriage, yet. "Fine. I'll allow it. But please, try to keep it out of the papers. For my sake as well."

Elsa bit her lips and tried to hide her excitement but it was no use. Her face erupted with jubilation, bringing a smile to her parents' faces.

"Yes, sir. May I be excused?"

Elsa sauntered out of the dining hall and burst into the tiny room full of suited men gathered around the booming TV as they slammed back breakfast and drowned it with coffee. Elsa spotted Hans on the far side, nose pressed to a small paperback, and she began to stride across the room. All at once, the men shot up in a gesture of respect, Elsa's heels clacking against the hardwood floor until they stopped right in front of Hans to plant a happy kiss on his surprised lips.

"He said yes," she panted quickly and went to kiss him again. Curious eyes looked on as a few whistles echoed throughout the crowded room of middle-aged security personnel.

"Who said yes?" Interrupted by another kiss. "About what?" And another.

"My father. He doesn't care that I'm with you." Hans was so floored that he couldn't feel the flat of Elsa's hand lovingly stroking the back of his head, silently claiming him.

"Really?"

"So we don't have to hide." Relief washed over their faces and Hans met Elsa's radiant smile with an even bigger one before her cupped her cheeks and place a tender kiss upon her lips, slow, passionate. Full of love.

"Elsa, I'm not ever going to be more than this," piercing green eyes turning sad for a moment.

"And I would never want you to be. I-" Shoving his hand over her mouth with a grunt of protest from the blonde.

"No, no, no. You always get to say it first and now it's my turn." He could feel her smiling against his hand, removing it only when he was assured she wouldn't interrupt his most special moment. "Elsa, I love you." Their lips met again as the room erupted with applause and congratulatory cheers from the other members of the royal secret service, much to Elsa's embarrassment. The audience didn't bother Hans one bit, embracing it as he turned them towards the small army of suited men and proudly declared, "I love her!"

The applause died out when one older man shot up out of the crowd. "Great! Now can we get back to game? This is Liverpool for crying out loud!"

"Yeah!" The other men bellowed in unison.

"So sorry," Hans apologized and pulled Elsa to back towards the wall and away from the roar of the game. She giggled as she basked in the glow of his gaze.

"I have to finish getting ready anyways. I just wanted to come tell you the good news."

"Well, wait. Now that it's official. What are you doing for dinner?" His russet brow bounced up on his forehead in that debonair way she loved, so suave and yet utterly sensual.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" She slowly drew in a breath and flashed him a mischievous smirk. "I don't know. I'll have to get permission from my bodyguard," arching a brow back at him. He was going to count this as foreplay later.

"I have a feeling he'll be agreeable to the amazing pub I plan on taking you to."

"A pub?"

"Yes. Something more _my_ style for once. To make up for all those spa days," shooting her a playful look on contempt. Elsa gasped, pretending to be more applauded than she really was.

"Fine," she retorted sharply. "But I want bangers and mash."

Hans held back a laugh. "I'll bet you do." She gave him one last kiss before they parted. "See you in a few," admiring her gate as she elegantly strode out of the room, looking back over her shoulder and giving Hans a wink.

Elsa finished her breakfast in bliss and in no time at all, a chauffeured black luxury car pulled in front of the private entrance of the palace, lead by police escort with flashing blue lights. An outing of this magnitude called for a motorcade, which Elsa always took in stride.

Hans waited at the bottom of the grand spiral staircase that descended from the residential quarters, dressed in a crisp black suit, black tie, and black aviators -looking very much the part of a bodyguard, but with a smile that only grew bigger as he watched Elsa make her way down.

"Ready?" She asked with the most sparkling blue eyes, as if this were the beginning of something momentous in their lives. A new chapter, but for a story they would write together.

A vision in designer business wear, perfect for a day of planning meeting for the city's annual arts festival, Elsa let an attendant help her slip on a thick knee-length wool jacket and readied herself at Hans' side.

"Ready your majesty." His formality only made her blush more furiously, for she now found it more endearing than ever. They'd have to figure out how to navigate their personal and professional relationship, but for now they just enjoyed the promise of a new today, together. In whatever sense that was.

The driver rounded the car, meeting Elsa at the entrance and helped her down the small series of step to the car, passing to rows of royal guards.

"Officer Westergaard," an unmistakable voice called after them. Hans turned and found the King standing regally behind him. He nodded out of respect and when he looked back up to the man, his eyes were softer, more approachable than those of a powerful leader. "Take care of my daughter." The King looked over Hans' shoulder, bittersweetly watching Elsa eagerly wait for Hans in the car; cheeks flushed warm with color and features brimming with more joy than he could ever remember.

Hans bowed slightly at the hip, hand over his chest and showing the utmost respect for his elder, his King, and his beloved's father.

"On my honor, sir."

* * *

_Thank you to everyone who has been spreading the word about this series on tumblr and elsewhere. I have a few more prompts to go before I slow down on this series and focus on two other Helsa fics (a canon and a kink fic) that will be up soon. I'll still be taking prompts and updating but probably every other week at that point._


	9. The Muse

_Prompt from Disneysfrozenguy; painter!Hans, muse!Elsa. This is a little OOC, more so for Elsa maybe, but it's smutty fun none the less. M for sexy times._

* * *

A quarter to twelve and Hans was running a little behind schedule. He'd stayed up late the night before, fueled by one too many cups of espresso, to finish his sketches for today's session with a new subject.

A quick shower left him just enough time to shave and throw on some jeans and a V-neck shirt. His _work_ jeans. Ones that he could splatter paint on without a care in the world as to their cost. Nice jeans were for gallery showings, and those weren't going to see the light of day for another month. That was if Hans broke through this inspiration drought he was experiencing and actually produced enough work for a showing. He was lucky to even come up with an idea for today. Dry spells were common for most artists, but a rarity for Hans.

Rich brown goodness poured from the built in espresso machine in Hans' kitchen, skipping the foam all together and taking a few scalding hot sips before the doorbell rang.

Barefoot and carefully carrying his piping hot cup of morning enthusiasm, Hans opened the door to greet his newest subject and nearly choked on his drink when he laid eyes on her. Beautiful women were Hans' forte. No one painted them quite like he did and he was considered a modern day Sandro Botticelli, except much more erotic. But this girl was beyond anything he'd seen in art or real life for that matter.

"G-good morning," he managed, pounding his chest with a closed fist to dislodge any remaining coffee from his windpipe. "You must be the girl Lars told me about?" Hans swallowed thickly and held out his hand to shake the ravishing blonde's.

"Yes. I'm Elsa," shaking his hand firmly yet gently in return. "I'm your subject for today."

"I don't think subject is quite the right word. Muse may be more appropriate," he charmed with a raise of his brows. Hans admired the woman's dangerously long platinum hair and flawless alabaster complexion, lured by the intensity of her forget-me-not eyes that were locked into his with a bashful twist of a smile.

Elsa stood outside and let him glance her over, not caring whether he was making sure she was appropriate for the piece or if he was just ogling her. She wanted his glare on her. The more his eyes roved over her, the more she craved the burn it left on her heated skin.

"I'm sorry, this is so rude of me. My coffee hasn'te kicked in yet and neither have my manners. Please, come in." Elsa stepped inside the house, curious eyes skipping about the upscale home, and followed Hans down a narrow hall.

"This is the my studio. We'll be working out of here today," Hans announced modestly as they entered the enormous room. Cream colored walls were lined with exposed maple beams and framed on one side by floor-to-ceiling windows to allow for perfect lighting. Matching light maple floors gave the space a roomy and expansive feel, and while it was still grand in all its modern simplicity, Elsa's eyes were immediately drawn to Hans' framed works on the opposing wall.

"Oh, my goodness!" Elsa gasped and dropped her bag down on the floor, striding over to one of his pieces with her hands delicately folded over her chest in awe. "This is _Lady of the Lake_," excitement gracing every beatific line of her face.

"You're familiar with my work?" Coming up beside her and admiring how she seemed to connect with the piece, her eyes dancing with wondering and sparkling like a clear blue lake.

"Very. I'm an art history major."

"Oh," sounding a bit surprised. But it explained her infatuation with art. "I get a lot of college girls that need money for school."

Elsa only smiled at Hans for a flash of a second before her gaze returned to the lavender lit woman wading in waist deep water on the wall. "My father takes care of my finances. That's not why I'm here today." At last, those entrancing blues clapped back onto Hans, giving him her undivided attention.

"Can I ask what motivated you to model? I only ask because my agent usually never surpasses my expectations when it comes to subjects."

Elsa inhaled an introspective breath through her nose, eyes rolled up to the ceiling like she was meticulously selecting the perfect words to respond to him with. "I guess you could say I'm a big supporter of the arts. And when Lars told me that this gig was for you, I couldn't say no."

"He did tell you that this is a nude, right?"

"I'm well aware," hint of a bewitching smirk catching in the corner of her smile. "All of your paintings are nudes. This is one of my favorites," eyes scaling back up the length of the bare woman in the painting. "No one can capture women's bodies like you can. And it's not gratuitous or lewd. It's a celebration of the feminine form," breaking her gaze from the painting and shifting it to Hans. "Their innocence. Vulnerability."

Hans couldn't stop staring at the way her lips curved and wrapped themselves around every perfectly enunciated word she spoke, so achingly soft, as their deep red color stood out from her winter-white skin.

"Thank you," he replied modestly and returned the blonde's smile. He was insanely cute when he smiled and her stomach flipped whenever he did so. "I rarely get feedback from women themselves." His glare was back on her now more than ever; feeling the unmistakable spark of something he could only guess was chemistry, between them. She didn't even have her clothes off yet and those peridot eyes seared her like an unforgiving sun. Her body was perfect, more than acceptable for the piece, but he kept getting distracted by the way she licked those delectable lips and smiled so flirtatiously back at him, assuming a coyness that wafted above an inner vixen, or so he guessed.

"Anyways. Today's pose is pretty simple. I drew out some preliminary sketches but I usually do most of my work with the subject in person. There's just something about a woman's natural essence that very inspiring in the moment." Hans lead Elsa away from his art and over to the setup at the center of the room. "You'll be sitting here," pointing to a spot marked with a red piece of tape. "Sitting on your heels. There's padding under here, so it's very soft and comfortable. If you need a break at any time, just let me know. Your comfort is most important to me. And you have long hair, which is perfect. I didn't specify color but yours is… breathtaking," swallowing hard with a suddenly dry throat. "Is it natural?"

"Yes. I'm Scandinavian. I think every gene I process is recessive." Elsa girlishly toyed with a rope of her hair before tossing it over her shoulder with a giggle.

"That explains the fairness of your skin. It's like polished marble." A silence fell over them but Elsa just used it as another opportunity to let Hans bask in her beauty, since he seemed so fascinated by it. "So sitting, and you'll be cheated out to me at an angle, and the moment I'm trying to capture is as if you've just pulled this ribbon from your hair, and it's the first second where it's falling down. I don't really require acting but I see her as having this really enchanting smile on her face. It's a private smile, meant for only her. Because she's not just baring her body, she's baring her soul. This isn't an act of defiance, letting her hair down. But a celebration of self. As if this is the first time she's broken the rules and gone against convention. And she's thrilled to pieces about it, but in a girlish, feminine contained sort of way. Did that make sense?" Tilting his head at the blonde.

"Yes. I think it's beautiful. And you know, I take my hair down at the end of every day. I've done it countless times and it always feels good. I know that feeling you're talking about."

"Great." God this woman was easy to work with. "I'm going to give you some privacy to get undressed and then I'll be back to mix some colors. I'm running behind and didn't have time to mix the palate this morning."

"You can do it now," stopping Hans in his tracks. "I don't need privacy. Just do what you have to do."

Elsa went back and retrieved her bag, setting it on the chair Hans had provided her with, and observed him begin to mix his paints out of the corner of her curious eye. He was very professional. Not even sneaking a peek at her once. Or least she hadn't caught him doing so.

Pinks, yellows, and velvety soft peaches swirled to life as Hans tried to create a palate around Elsa's skin and hair color. He had to glance over at her several times to make sure he was matching the colors correctly and each time he did, it became impossible not to gawk at the seductive pace she was undressing at. It was utterly tantalizing. She did so in away as if she _knew_ he was watching her, but never letting her eyes leave what she was doing.

She began by slipping off her ankle boots, tucking them neatly under the chair. A dark teal day dress was pulled over her head to reveal more of that stunning arctic skin. He'd notice she was wearing tights earlier but it wasn't until her dress came off that he realized they were actually thigh-high stockings.

Hans completely lost track of how much white he was adding to his mixture and fixed his eyes on the strip show over on the other side of the room. Slender fingers dipped under the top of delicate sheer black stockings, slowly and carefully dragging them down her iridescent legs. One and then the other, at a mouth-watering pace, before laying them over the back of the chair.

A matching black underwear set was flung over the stockings as Elsa shed the last of her clothing and confidently strutted to her place at the center of Hans' setup. She assumed the required position, sitting back on her heels with pointed toes, and played with the silky robin egg ribbon in her hands.

"Ready when you are," she called across the room. Hans acted like he hadn't just been watching her undress the past few minutes and moved behind his canvas to align the easel at the proper angle. With Elsa ready in position, she looked so much better than he ever envisioned. So great, that he had to mentally pat himself on the back for coming up with this particular scene for this heaven sent model. She was unbelievably divine.

Once he was behind the canvas, it was a little easier for Hans to concentrate on his work, taking his brush to the paint and smearing over a thick layer for the background. Something dark to compliment Elsa's skin tone, but not so dark that she didn't blend into the painting itself. A gradation of blues did the job nicely and Hans' mind began to take flight.

He worked swiftly, keeping one brush gritted between his teeth while another feverishly worked across the canvas. With the easel preventing most of their eye contact, Elsa found herself missing Hans terribly even though she was only a few feet away from him. He noticed how her eyes would perk and brighten every time he glanced around the side of the canvas to get a reference look at her. Her back would straighten and her smile slipped wider, cheeks coloring a wild magenta. Almost like his attention was a sort of reward she depended on to get through the silence.

After he caught her pouting during an exceptionally long time between glances, he struck up a conversation with her. They talked about school and how she'd fallen in love with art at a young age. Her parents owned their own private collection of Rococo pieces, but Elsa preferred modern artists who possessed a classic style. Someone who knew their talent well enough to transcend time and capture their audience's imagination. And he'd unknowingly captured Elsa's long ago. Before Lars ever even asked her to model for Hans.

* * *

They worked together over the next few days. Hans usually only booked his subjects for three days at a time because that's how long it took him to finish a piece.

On the final day, it only took Hans a matter of hours to finish the painting and when he did, Elsa gasped and teared up at how he'd managed to create such a masterpiece.

"This is beyond beautiful. And you're so talented. I mean it's a gift, clearly. I've never even seen myself look this amazing before."

"Have you ever looked in a mirror?" Hans jested, nudging her exposed shoulder. They'd become comfortable enough over the past three days to be playful with each other and she giggled blithely in reply.

"I think you brought it out of me." Her gaze flicked from his eyes down to his lips, wondering how they would feel against her own. Her eyes lingered, letting him know she was lusting for a taste him. Just a hint of seduction before she twirled around and headed off to admire Hans' collection of works.

"How do you think it will compare with the others? I mean some of these women are so stunning. I don't think I can even hold a candle to them."

"You can't be serious?" Hans chuckled and cleaned his hands off with a wet rag before coming to join Elsa. "You really think you're less beautiful than them?" Gesturing to the other beauties hung about the room.

"They're _women_," she stressed nervously, revealing the first little bit of self doubt Hans had yet to witness. "They're not only older, but their bodies are perfection."

"Elsa," Hans said softly and turned her away from the wall. "I don't normally speak so candidly about my subjects. Like I said, I'm not about making anyone feel uncomfortable. But if you could only see what I see, what your body really looks like. You wouldn't be saying such things."

Her thick lashes fluttered up at him and she could feel a prickling heat race across her skin, heart galloping to a steady rhythm as she struggled to breath properly. Emboldened by his unbreakable stare; she took two small steps and closed the gap between them.

"What _do_ you think about my body?"

"Elsa, I told you-"

"No," she interrupted. "Your opinion matters to me. More than you think." Her lips trembled under his gaze and her breath shook upon exhale. "I took this job for one reason. For you. I'm a _huge_ fan of your art. I've dreamed about being one of your subjects. To be immortalized in one of your works." A veil of desperation shrouded her face, eyes longingly locked onto his, like she might die of he even dared to look away.

Hans lips parted, surprised by her admission. Most girls who worked for him only wanted the money, even if he was extremely handsome. No one had ever made a move on him like this before and he was flattered beyond belief.

"I didn't realize you felt that way."

Her breathing was quicker now, sharp and urgent, making the rise and fall of her voluptuous chest impossible to ignore. He was a professional, yes. But he was also human.

Elsa laid a hand on his chest, tracing the neckline of his shirt with the lightest of touch, teasing and exploring as she gathered her courage and brought her lips up to his.

"I only came here for one other reason," she husked.

"And that is?"

Up on her tiptoes, Elsa leaned in and brought her lips to the shell of Hans' ear, his sideburns brushing against her cheeks. "I want to fuck you."

She didn't move. Just pressed her body flush against his and waited in silence, breathing gently against his ear.

"I don't know if I can do that," he replied almost darkly, prompting her to pull away with a deep frown etched on her face.

"It's because I'm not beautiful enough. I told you." Upset and humiliated, Elsa turned on her heel to leave but was caught by Hans' powerful hands on her shoulders.

"You want me to tell you about your body?" Pulling her back into the intimate distance they previously held. "In honest words, no holding back?"

Before she had time to answer, Hans splayed his hands over her torso and let them drink in her beauty as he used his artist's eyes to woo her.

"This skin. I've never seen anything like it. The color. The tone. It's one only a goddess should possess. Much too fair to belong to a mere mortal." His fingers trickled down her slim stomach, eliciting a shuddering gasp from his subject. "It's flawless, and heavenly. It's an ambrosial delicacy. An untrained eye would dismiss it as merely white. But there are hints of rose and violet. Peach and cream." He stopped to drag his nose from her navel up to her sternum, taking in a long breath as he did so. "And it smells even better than it looks," placing a brief kiss against that mouth-watering skin of hers.

"Your collarbone," he continued, ghosting his forefinger along the jutting feature. "It's perfectly angled to the hollow of your throat, shaped by these narrow shoulders that hold such an elegant posture. One that no royal could ever hope to attain. Everything is lithe and petite, including your ribcage, which only accentuates your breasts even more." Her breath picked up at the mention of her breasts. He was slowing undoing her, one body part at a time. "They're ample, but not too big. Some women think men love big breasts," giving a roll of his eyes. "Proportion is everything to me." His hand followed the sweeping curve of her left breast, tenderly outlining its rotund shape; forcing Elsa to bite back a whimper. Her skin may have embodied the essence of winter but Hans had unleashed a wildfire on it, blazing a trail leading straight to her loins. She was at his undying mercy as he stupefied her with his poetic descriptions. "The skin is even more flawless here than anywhere else on your body, and you have the lightest, sweetest, perfectly sized nipples I've ever seen." With her skin, he had smelt her. With her breasts, he tasted her; wrapping his lips around the hardened nub as she mewled in his arms.

"Your face, especially your eyes. If they're the windows to the soul, I can learn everything about with one look into these sky blue beauties. They're one of the first things I noticed about you. They're shockingly bright and so wonderfully big, you could hold me prisoner forever with just one bat of those lashes.

"You'd have to get really close to see them, but your freckles are more celestial than the Milky Way itself; highlighting and adding to a more approachable side of yourself. Your nose is prominent but feminine, a button nose with a mind of its own, I guess you could say. And these lips, I haven't been able to take my eyes off of them since you said 'hello.' The upper one is smooth across the philtrum, not a common trait. And they have these little inflection points on them that make them curve even more when they move." He cupped a hand against her cheek and placed the lightest of kisses upon her lips, a whisper of a kiss. Just enough to feel their softness and prove to himself they were real. And to work her up even more.

"Long, slender fingers. Almost like spider legs, but in a good way. The length allows for more specific movement, what some might call double jointed, but it's actually hypermobility. And I love a woman who takes pride in her grooming," eyeing her perfectly manicured nails before dropping back onto his knees.

"This attractive stomach is nothing short of perfection as well. Your abdominal muscles are symmetrical. No matter how many sit ups one does, only genes can make them appear in such a way. Your belly button is tiny, and adorable," giving it a smack of his lips. "But this, _this_," splaying his hands over her generous hips, "is my favorite feature." Bold hands stroked the curves that arched over her hipbones and lead to a plentiful rear.

"Most women blessed with your body are subjected to narrow hips and a flat backside._ These_ hips, they're bountiful. Life giving. One of the things that makes hips to attractive to men, on a primitive level, is their ability to bear healthy children." He laid a trail of gentle kisses from her hipbone down to only where she hoped he was going with all of this. "Men will go crazy for your hips, and you may very will give many of them a heart attack with the way they move when you walk. Shapely hips and a tiny waist give you that coveted hourglass look so many die for. Victorian women would crush themselves with corsets just to attain this figure. And wide hips mean, what I can only describe as, a _glorious_ ass," giving it a much welcomed _squeeze_ as Elsa moaned up to the ceiling. "You have curves, but they're very tight and lean. Your legs are hyperextended; it's one quality that makes ballerinas so aesthetically pleasing to watch. Dainty feet and adorable toes, how I'd love to see you in heels. Michelangelo himself could not have created something more magnificent."

Elsa was panting now, wound up tighter than a tinker toy thanks to Hans and his sexual monologue.

"And you weren't lying when you said you were a natural blonde the other day," eyes motioning to the apex of her thighs. Now she was really panting. "And what I meant earlier," nudging her right leg out to the side. Elsa moved her foot a bit more and held her breath as Hans slinked his hand up the willowy length of her legs and situated his gorgeous face right at her center. "About not be able to do _this_…" A gasp tore from her throat when she felt his mouth on her, molten lips spreading her wide and tongue tracing the length of her slit. Those long fingers he was so in love with, clutched at his hair; pressing him into her and moaning loudly as her nails scraped along his scalp. "I only meant that, while I don't sleep with a lot of women to begin with..." stopping to suckle on her clit, hips jolting and oscillating against his lips. "...and have never done so with a subject." She nearly screamed when he slipped a finger inside her and pulsed against her g-spot. _Fuck!_ "I'm an artist."

"Hans!" She cried, legs threatening to give out.

"I don't fuck women," sucking even harder.

"Ahhhhh!"

"I make love to them." He gave her one last kiss on her pearl and brought himself back up to her level, black-blown harlequin eyes meeting cerulean blues as he held the back of her head with one hand and traced her flushed lips with the other, thumb following those perfect lines -feeling her hot breath against his knuckles. Elsa was breathing furiously at this point, stray blonde hairs rising and falling out of her face with each huff of her lungs. "If that's okay with you." A gentler side of Hans emerged as he pressed his lips to hers, capturing and sucking lightly on the fleshier bottom one until a deep red bloomed below the paper-thin skin.

"Make love to me?" She had to clarify. With all he was doing to her, she could barely think straight.

"Yes," he affirmed and kissed her more deeply, tongues briefly meeting. "I'm not opposed to fucking. It's just, with you, that wouldn't seem to do it justice."

"Oh, God. Yes, _please_." She was halfway to having an orgasm now anyways. And she'd thought he'd only want her if she offered herself in a way she assumed he'd prefer. But this, him making love to her, was better than anything she imagined. She wasn't even sure she'd make it this far with him. But there was something special between them.

Hans pulled off his white t-shirt with Elsa's help. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his jeans as Hans lead her over to an armless chair, kissing her the entire time. When he said 'make love to her,' Elsa had this idea of them laying in his bed for some reason. She didn't really care how they did it, just that it was happening.

The last pant leg fell to the floor and Hans kicked off his boxers before sitting back in the chair, pulling Elsa onto his lap and smothering her lips in a juicy kiss she fully accepted. The chair was low enough that her toes could skim the floor, but she figured resting them on the wooden supports on the side would give her the right amount of leverage. Hans was beautifully engorged in front of her and she was almost thankful to get the chance to do it like this instead of how she'd initially envisioned it. Riding Hans into oblivion would surely make her stand out in his mind.

"Come here," he murmured softly, leading her lips back to his as her hair fell around them like a privacy curtain. His kisses grew more passionate, exploring her mouth and caressing her tongue; licking the moans right off of it. With a lift of her hips, Hans slid inside of her with the greatest of ease. She was wet and tight, a wonderful combination. His hands possessively wrapped around her hips and he lifted her closer to him, so that her breasts were pressed beautifully against his chest. They found an easy rhythm and Hans helped her with his strong hands, raising her up and holding her at just the right angle with each thrust. A grin split his face when he realized how vocal she was. In the empty space of the room, her cries echoed like a beautiful symphony of erotic sounds.

"I like this position," she heaved, waving her body into his with a melodic roll of her hips.

"I wanted you on top, because it's easier for you to come. And I can do this." He brought a thumb to his mouth and licked it, then placed it, _pressed_ it, right on her clit. He moved in tiny little circles and then side to side digs, always keeping her guessing as his name reverberated in ecstasy off the vaulted ceilings. His lips flew to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure and kissing her hard enough to steal any remaining breath.

"Elsa," he groaned, feeling the throbbing ache below expand into his abdomen. The build up was intense, but he expected nothing less with a woman this gorgeous. "You're so beautiful. So beautiful."

Every inch of her insides was like a Fourth of July spectacular. Bursts of heated energy, one right after the other. "Oh... Oh... Oooohhhhhhh, God, Hans!"

He could tell she was on the verge of that most awaited moment. Hans was famous for depicting women in what his critics called "private moments of womanhood." He studied them. Loved them. Women were such beautiful and fascinating creatures to him. But of all the secret moments he'd captured on canvas, his favorite was one he'd never even attempted to recreate. The moment a woman climaxed. It was a sacred moment, meant for only one person, their lover, to witness. And today, with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he was going to make it as pleasurable as possible to create that perfect high for her.

She placed her hands behind her on his knees, grounding herself as her legs spread open even wider, letting him go as deep and as fast as he could. She bounced mirthfully, face smiling and turning to expressions of utter bliss within a moments notice. Her mouth was open, moaning and panting as she watched him burying himself into her over and over, still worrying that swollen pearl into a frenzy.

"Hans, Hans... Ahhh! I'm... close!" All of her thrusting had just about stopped, so he pulled her into him with all his might, pushing her to the edge as she became blinded by brilliant white stardust. Her keening went up a whole octave every time she breathed, and he knew, as her eyes slammed shut and her head flung back, that the moment he'd been waiting for had finally arrived. She sang louder and louder, until just before, there was a moment of motionless silence, followed by a sharp jerk of her hips and a scream from her throat. Her moans softened and her hips gently rocked into his, searching for every bit of pleasure he offered as her body embraced him, hugged him into her with every spasm that unfolded.

"Hans, Hans, Hans..." His name falling sweetly from her lips, face blissfully twisted in ecstasy.

The high began to fade and Elsa brought herself up, gripping Hans' shoulders as she set to work on making him feel that same euphoria he'd gifted to her.

His hands were all over her, worshipping every inch he had proclaimed as beautiful in his moving speech from earlier. Her chest bounced with each meeting of their hips, and she tenderly kissed and nibbled at his lips. She sucked on his earlobe and whispered into his ear, doing an excellent job of building that unbelievable pressure that begged to be release.

She moaned along with him, cradling his head to her breasts when he finally came, pouring his warmth inside of her. He groaned harshly, gutturally, in a way that made her feel accomplished. And she gleamed at his enjoyment of her.

They kissed for several more minutes, enjoying the quiet after all the furious grunting and moaning, before Elsa had to get dressed and head off to class.

At the door, she stopped and let Hans kiss her one last time, smiling broadly against his greedy lips.

"I know we're done with this piece, but would you want to come back?" He asked hopefully, those green eyes making it impossible to say no. Not like she ever would anyways.

"Of course I would." She tugged on his shirt and licked her lips seductively.

"I mean not just for..." He had a hard time talking when she kept busying his lips. "Not just for _this_. But you've awakened so many ideas for me. I was thinking of a whole showing. Of just you."

"Me?"

"I told you, you're more muse than subject."

"I would be your muse any day of the week." Swept completely off her feet by his offer, Elsa fell into his arms and let Hans encircle her in his embrace.

"Friday then?"

"Friday," Elsa honeyed and agreed. "As long as we get to play after we work."

"Play. Inspire. Tomato, tomahto." Her tongue found its way to his and danced together until Hans was reminded of something he'd wanted to say to her. "Elsa," breaking their kiss to make sure she was paying attention. "Everything I said about your beauty is true. But that's not why I took you up on your offer today. A body is a body. Beautiful or not, it's not the only thing that makes a woman who she is." Her face drew serious, hanging on his every word and absorbing each one. "I knew you were beautiful from the first second I saw you. Over the past three days, I got to know the woman within that body. And you're intelligent, far more than you give yourself credit for. You're funny and so adorable I don't know what to do with myself sometimes." Elsa blushed and smiled meekly, having to look away for a second before Hans guided her chin back to him. "So when I say I want you to come back, not just to model for me, but for the other stuff as well. I'm not saying that because I think you're pretty. I'm saying that because I like you, all of you. And when you come next time, it's you, Elsa, I'm bringing into my bed. Not just some beautiful body."

She'd been so focused on trying to impress him the past few days, in every way she thought he would find appealing, that it was a relief to be viewed and appreciated as herself. Other girls may have to use their beauty to get a talent painter like Hans to sleep with them, but that wasn't what made her succeed in the end.

Speechless by his wisdom, Elsa could only nod before he kissed her once more.

"Now get to class," swatting her on that firm tush to break the slight tenseness, making her yelp and growl with pleasure.

"Bye." Elsa swept her draping bangs to one side and waved as she strolled down the driveway to her car.

Hans shut the door and leaned against it, raking his hand through his hair at his unbelievable luck of such a girl walking into his life.

"Yes!" He shouted, first pumping by himself. He not only liked Elsa, a lot, and not to the mention the amazing sex, but she just might have saved his career. He already had a dozen ideas bouncing around his head, and he planned on paying her back extensively on Friday.

* * *

_I'm not active on tumblr anymore, so I have to put my announcements here. If you haven't checked out my new canon AU, Betrothal, it's up now on my profile page. If canon is not your cup of tea, I have two modern fics coming very soon:_

_Stripped- After the death of her parents, Elsa takes a job as a stripper to make enough money to support her and her ailing sister, Anna. Along the way she meets a handsome member of the rowing team at school and has to keep her job a secret from him as their romance becomes more serious. Helsa, M, modern AU, Romance/Drama_

_Wednesday Fun Night- Married Hans and Elsa turn to BDSM to spice up their sex life, gaining more than they ever bargained for in the process. Helsa, Very M, Modern AU, Romance/Kink._


	10. A Treat for My Sweet

_Some fluff for a change of pace. Inspired by Blue-Pixiedust (aka Highway-to-Helsa), Let-it-geaux, and their numerous baby/pregnancy headcanons. Plus my own bump served as my muse. _

* * *

Snow had already started to fall over the streets of town and Elsa was starting to worry about her husband. She glanced at the clock with fretting eyes and nervously adjusted her sweater over her seven-month baby bump. Of course her birthday had to fall on the shortest day of the year. Which meant it was dark by four o'clock and Hans was now driving around in the dark and snow. She just wanted him home already.

Finally, at half past six, he burst through the front door like a cyclone. His black puffy jacket was covered in a light dusting of snow and his hands looked chilled to the bone.

"You're home!" Elsa cheered and slowly rose from the chair at a sluggish pace, propping herself upright with her hands supportively placed along the small of her back. It made her baby bump look even bigger than usual, and Hans loved every bit of the growing swell on his beautiful wife.

"Baby. You would not _believe_ the traffic. I love you, but a birthday four days before Christmas means the worst and rudest drivers ever, are out in full force. But I survived and I come baring gifts." Hans held up a pink pastry box in his hands and Elsa shot up straight as and arrow with a delighted gasp, eyes glittering with glee.

"Oh, it's chocolate cake!" Excitedly balling up her hands out in front of her as she tried to jump. It ended up being more of a squat that never got off the ground but Hans about died from adorableness in her attempt to jump for joy.

Elsa was so googly eyed over the cake that she neglected to notice the enormous bunch of balloons, two dozen roses, and scores of shopping bags weighing her poor husband down like a ton of bricks.

"I've got lots of stuff to spoil my girls with," Hans bragged and held up the hordes of gifts.

"Can we do it after cake? Please?" Bottom lip persuasively jutting out into a pout. "I've been waiting all week for chocolate cake."

Hans now had about seven months of practice dealing with a pregnant woman and he knew better than to make Elsa wait for cake and open gifts instead. If she wanted cake, she got it.

Immediately, everything in Hans' arms fell to the floor with a crash, as he set the cake on the kitchen table and hurried to get some plates and utensils.

"Thank you," Elsa beamed and lovingly swirled her hands over her bump. The baby must have already been picking up some of her mommy's excitement because she was kicking up a storm before one bite of cake even made it her way.

Hans rummaged around the kitchen like a madman for candles and a lighter, while Elsa discreetly lifted the top of the pastry box and sneakingly swiped her finger along the side of the cake for a taste of that semi-sweet goodness. Oh god, it was heaven. Heaven wrapped in silk, and she prayed she had the willpower not to take and even bigger sample, no matter how bad her mouth watered.

"I got it!" Hans emerged from the kitchen with supplies in hand and rushed back over to his salivating wife. Elsa took a seat, making herself comfortable by resting her hands on the top of her bump, as Hans set the table and took the cake out of the box.

He'd been smart enough to get a cake big enough to feed at least eight people because between him and Elsa, that thing wasn't going to make it to morning. His sweet little wife loved chocolate but now that she was pregnant, she could really put the food away.

Hans didn't bother counting out how many candles he was using and just spread enough of them around to make the cake look full. He burnt himself twice trying to light them but he was running on a hungry pregnant woman's clock and time was of the essence.

With the candles lit, he sang the most enchanting version of _Happy Birthday_ to Elsa. There were plenty of things she found sexy about her doting husband, but his voice was had to be me the most drop dead sexiest voice of all men alive. It was a birthday gift in itself just to hear him belt out a tune.

Elsa blew out the candles and quietly clapped her hands in anticipation of cake. As soon as Hans handed her the plate and fork, she dug right in like she hadn't eaten in weeks and let out the most sensuous moan. Chocolate was an orgasmic experience, especially on one's birthday.

"Alright, so while you eat, I will get you a glass of milk because you can't have cake without milk. That's just wrong."

Hans fetched her a tall glass of milk and Elsa downed half the thing before he even sat back down in his chair.

"Now, on with the gifts. First, I got you some balloons."

Elsa smiled up at the colorful array of balloons but shifted her eyes down to the ends of the strings and quickly swallowed her bite. "Wait, what's this?" Tugging at the curly ribbons in his hand.

"They're memories. Well, pictures actually. Our lives are about to change, so I thought it would be nice to take a walk down memory lane."

On the end of each string was a photo Hans has personally picked out. Still chewing on a big chunk of cake, Elsa picked a few of them up and smiled warmly as she recognized each special moment from their relationship.

The first one was of them wearing giant goggles on the top of a snow covered ski slope. Hans' lips were midnight blue; obviously freezing from the wind chill, but Elsa was having the time of her life. Kissing her man on the cheek as newlywed bliss enraptured them.

"This is from our honeymoon," she said fondly, smell of pine and freshly fallen snow taken her back to the happy spot.

"Yep. Nobody can ski better than you, baby. Look how happy you are."

Moving on to the next one, Elsa's wistful smile twisted into a devilish grin as soon as she laid eyes on it. The photo was a selfie style shot of the two of them in bed, Hans on top of his Elsa. Her visible top half was in nothing but a coconut bra from the gift shop and Hans was in, well...nothing

"Mmmm. _Tahiti_. Some _good times_ happened in that cabana." Playful brows bounced back at Hans as he joined in on her sultry chuckle, glancing down at the pale bare foot that was caressing his calf.

"Memories that replay in my mind quite often. God you were amazing that night."

That steamy memory was quickly replaced by a lovely wedding photo, bride and groom wrapped in each other's arms like a scene straight out of a fairytale.

"Our first dance." They both sighed in unison. Hans had looked so handsome that day and Elsa was the embodiment of his perfect woman. He'd swept her off her feet during that dance, and she'd never stopped swooning over him. "These are sweet, Hans."

The last photo was a blurry black and white computer printout from their last ultrasound.

Elsa took it in her hands and let her cake sit on its own for a minute. "This one is my favorite." As happy as she was, Hans practically had stars in his eyes. "You love her already, don't you?" It warmed her to see him so over the moon about his a baby. This whole pregnancy had really brought them closer together, but she'd never see him smile like he did then.

"It's scary, but yeah. I love her. I love that we made her." His hands splayed out over her rotund stomach, embracing her curves and feeling the electricity of the life below hum against his fingertips. Elsa brightened and glowed whenever he touched her that way. He made her feel like a goddess. And she felt as if she was giving him the greatest gift on Earth. It was a safe love, like hers. He didn't have to worry about strings being attached or someone hurting him for no good reason. Elsa had shown him unconditional love, but it was nothing like the love he would experience between father and daughter.

Too much emotion made Hans have to skip to the next surprise before he couldn't pull himself back together. "Moving on. What would a birthday be without two dozen white roses?"

Elsa took a sniff of the yummy blooms and thanked her husband with a smackingly good kiss.

"Gift number one, for you my dear."

Hans handed Elsa a small card and she gasped as soon as she read the front of it. "Is this a spa certificate?" Squealing as her feet danced mirthfully on the floor.

"Good for a whole day. It includes a prenatal massage, a scrub, a facial, and a pedicure. Because I know you can't reach your toes anymore."

"I love it. Baby and I will enjoy it."

He handed her another card and was met with furrowed brows. "They're all envelopes," Elsa noted and tore through the plain white paper.

"Good things come in small packages."

Within the boring envelope was something that sure enough was a good thing in a very small package. "Tickets to Phantom of the Opera!"

Hans couldn't help the proud grin that stretched across his face. "I figure we won't be able to go to the theater for a while after the baby's born. Sort of a last hurrah."

"You know I'm going to make you sing _Music of the Night _for the whole week after?" Not really a question but a warning.

"You are my favorite audience to sing for. Both my girls," laying his hand back over her swell. "Shouldn't be a problem." He'd already started singing to the baby, and liked it way more than he cared to admit. The baby hadn't even arrived and he was turning into such a softie.

Boxes and bags littered the kitchen as Elsa tore through her gifts. Clothes, pregnancy items, and more chocolates. He spoiled her good.

The last present came in a tiny velvet box and Elsa initially thought it might be a ring. She already donned the elaborate wedding and engagement ring set Hans had bestowed upon her, so she couldn't imagine what kind of ring this one could be. But it turned out it wasn't a ring at all. It was a necklace.

"It's a heart," she said, lifting it up into the light so it could shimmer and shine. At the center of the silver chain was a diamond-studded heart. The _big _diamonds. Like the ones that could easily have been set into rings that would make any girl happy. Hans knew how his girl loved jewelry and fancy baubles, and he never held back when he gifted her with one. Especially this one.

"It's my heart," he whispered softly and pulled Elsa's hair to one side to clasp the chain around her neck. "Your sister will attest that a lot of people used to think I was a heartless guy. Maybe I was. But then I found you. And I knew that they were right. I really was heartless. Because it wasn't until you that I started feeling something. Happiness. Love. All of it." Her cheeks rosied as he spoke and she felt she might cry. "You had my heart the whole time. And you still do. You have my entire life, right here," circling his hand over their baby. "Everything I love is right here in this room. I want you to remember how much I love you. How much I love our daughter. Every time you look at this heart, remember, it's _my_ heart. Beating just for my girls." He lifted the glittering charm to his lips and kissed it, never looking away from Elsa's glacier blue eyes, as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Hans," hiccuping a sob and welcoming a joyous smile. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." Her hand strummed through his auburn locks, loving him with each graze of her touch before her hand settled against one of his sideburns. "And you're not heartless. Look at everything you've done just today." Their eyes skipped about the room together. Hans had covered the entire kitchen in presents. "Our baby is lucky to have a daddy like you. You already spoil me. I fear you'll never be able to say no to her." Said in a way that was more of a compliment that made him beam with pride.

"You're probably right." With the cake now completely forgotten, Elsa brought her velvety soft lips to Hans' and kissed him, whispering how much she loved him before finally sitting back in her chair.

"Last one," Hans sighed as he held up the last bag. Elsa already had her plate resting back on her tummy and was hammering away at her cake.

"Massage cream."

"That one is for right now," snatching the tub of cream from her hands, popping the top and scooping out a dollop.

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Put 'em up here." Elsa didn't need to be asked twice and she promptly plopped her tired and swollen feet into Hans' lap. His hand here so big and strong and her feet were so dainty and little. A perfect combination. He always used just the right amount of pressure and got her to make the sexiest sounds, even if it was just a foot massage. Hans could make anything sexual with her.

Elsa sat back and giggled almost girlishly, licking her fork and grinning like a fool. "I'm having my cake and eating it too."

"I'm sorry it's more low key this year," he lamented. "The storm coming in kind of limited the birthday options."

"Are you kidding? This is _perfect_. Best birthday ever. I'm too exhausted to go out anyways."

Hans tried to focus on the massage but she made that cake look so damn good. "Can I have a bite of that?" Motioning to the second slice of cake Elsa had just loaded onto her plate.

"Course you can." She cut him off square and fed it took him as he continued to work on her feet. A forkful of cake followed by a big wet kiss made Hans a happy man.

"Happy Birthday. I love you, sweetheart," kissing her back, both tasting like chocolate.

"We love you too, honey."

* * *

_Let me know if you'd like more baby/pregnancy Helsa, or have any other fluff prompts. I have a ton of smut prompts and I'd like to rotate them with fluff :) Or drama. You never know. I blame typos on pregnancy brain. Have a great week everyone!_


	11. Changes

_More pregnancy fluff._

* * *

Another Tuesday, that felt like it should have already been a Friday, had begun and the Westergard's were busy getting for another long day of work. Hans was in their master bedroom leaning over the dresser, diligently perfecting the knot of his tie in the mirror, when he heard a disgruntled huff from the bathroom. It could have only been one thing: _hormones,_ preventing another wonderful morning from unfolding for his lovely wife.

With only two more months to go until delivery time, Hans put on his best sunshiny smile and strolled into the bathroom to find Elsa standing in her only bra and underwear, staring furiously at her reflection in the mirror.

Although he knew she was probably in a terrible mood, he felt almost bad for thinking how adorably frustrated she looked with her blonde hair all frazzled, makeup a tad overdone, and damn if she still wasn't sexy in dark blue underwear set despite being seven months pregnant.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Hans' slick black shoes clacked across the floor as he rested against the vanity, remembering to keep cool around his pregnant wife at all times.

Living with a pregnant woman was like walking through a field of landmines, every minute of every day, for nine months straight. He loved her to pieces. To the moon and back a hundred times over. But hormones showed no mercy to anyone, even to the most devoted of husbands like Hans. So he treaded lightly and just bounced his handsome auburn brows with a hopeful smile and waited. _Patiently_ waited.

"I'm a mess!" Elsa fumed with a crease between her eyebrows so deep it almost split her forehead as she gestured to her body. Which appeared spectacular from Hans' view. Body still tight and slim with the most gorgeous bump that only trumpeted in a new level of femininity for his wife, but also made him beam with pride at what their love had created. Pregnancy had only made him appreciated her more.

"You don't look like a mess. _Naked_, mostly. But not a mess." His smile was so smooth that on any other day it would have remedied the situation. Today, however, Elsa was a fierce combination of fire and ice over the simple act of getting dressed for work.

"No!" She shot back, stomping her foot and almost crying from exhaustion. "I washed my hair three times and it still doesn't feel or look clean. I can't reach my legs and I can't remember the last time I shaved them." The more she vented the faster her mood swung from anger to sullen misery. "I'm as a big as whale, my skin is all… _weird_. I have this spot on my thigh that won't go away. And my boobs-," grabbing the two swollen breasts with each of her hands, capturing Hans' full attention. "-are huge! And not in a sexy way. I don't even feel sexy." Here came the tears. "They feel obscene. And they're only going to get bigger. I'm so uncomfortable." Again, he felt incredibly bad for her but her little tantrum and the pouty lip were just so cute. And she'd grabbed her boobs. He was only human to find pleasure in that.

Hans assessed the situation before he made his move, carefully planning the right words to soothe her with.

"Baby, it's okay. You're pregnant. This all hormones."

"This is not hormones! I really am this upset!" Violently swinging back to anger faster than a hurricane. Wrong words.

"That's not exactly what I meant." Hans quickly backtracked and tried again. He came up behind her and waged a visual battle with her reflection using his soft eyes and gentle smile. Gathering her hair, he pulled it back to the nape of her neck and kissed her sweetly on the head. "Your hair is changing because of the hormones. Same with your skin," placing a kiss on her shoulder as his hand left her hair and grazed over her thigh. "And this little thing," smoothing his fingers over the coffee colored mark that had thrown her into a tailspin. "The doctor said you could get all kinds of discolorations and bumps because of the hormones, which will go away. And in truth, you can only see it because you're so fair to begin with."

Adoring lips and the pampering sweeps of his hands over her body seemed to be doing a better job of defusing her than whatever he was saying. This was because Hans knew that pregnant women, or at least Elsa, were controlled by hormones in two ways: crazy overactive anger and uncontrollable libido. If she was already steeped in a pool of low self-esteem and self-deprecation, he figured he could try to woo those hormones into making her feel that rush of lust that would clear her mind of any ridiculous thoughts about her body.

"What if it doesn't go away?" She groaned, milder this time as she turned around to face him.

"Then I will kiss that spot every single time I make love to you. I will love it and think it's the sexiest damn thing because it's part of you." His heart about did a cartwheel when her lips started to curl into a smile. "And your boobs, if you think them getting bigger is a _bad_ thing, then you don't understand how men work, sweetheart." Oh yes, another smile. Bigger and brighter than the one before. And then it was gone.

"But my ribs hurts," ruby red lip jutting back out as the look in her eyes grew helpless.

He smoothed his hands over the tiny area smooshed between Elsa's bra and the crest of her baby bump, about where her ribs were supposed to be.

"They're uncomfortable, I get that," he honeyed, voice coated in sympathy as he peppered her cheek with more kisses. "Maybe we need to get you some new bras? New clothes?"

"Maybe." A small light glimmered in her majestic orbs at his suggestion. What woman didn't like shopping and new clothes?

"I don't know what else to say other than you have _never_ looked more beautiful to me," turning her back around to face the mirror with his arms linked around her waist.

"Really?" Her smile stretched so wide it made the apple of her cheeks rise so high that Hans couldn't resist kissing them even more. One of the benefits of the skin changes was that it brought out that dusting of freckles he cherished so much.

"Oh, honey." His voice dropped into that deep sexy register that resounded inside her like the thud of a strong bass, awakening that need in her that always lingered just below the surface these days. "You are _so_ amazingly sexy," dragging his lips around the shell of her ear. "I have never been more attracted to you. This bump, I mean it suits you. I does something to me." He circled his hands over the blossoming swell, making fluid figure eights over her belly and pressing himself against her so that her pert rear was nuzzled snugly against him.

Elsa's diminished lung capacity didn't help as Hans already had her breathing rather shallowly, and _quickly_. "Yeah?" She murmured humbly, hanging on his every word as his hot breath against her skin melted the icy exterior of self-doubt from early.

"_Oh_ _yeah_. I like the bump more than the boobs."

"You do?"

"You don't even look pregnant except for the bump. You look great. _Ravishing_, baby," planting a hot wet kiss against the side of her throat.

"Yeah, but I don't feel sexy. I feel gross." Would those hormones just give it a rest already? It killed him to hear her talk about herself like that. How could the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on be remotely attractive?

This time he turned her around and lowered his head until they were looking right into each other's eyes, because he didn't know how else to get through to her.

"That could never be possible. And I could never see you as gross. I know you feel uncomfortable and frumpy. But normally, when I'm watching you get ready, I have to hold myself back. You're so cute in just your underwear," devilishly flicking the band of her panties. "Your hair has never been so long and thick. These curves drive me crazy. Believe me when I tell you I have never wanted you so much in my whole life."

"Right now?"

He'd only meant to make her feel better so that she could carry on with her day but tripped the trigger of full-blown desire instead. "Baby, I gotta get ready for work."

"But you said all those things. Made me feel so good. You can't just leave it at that. I'm all revved up." Elsa was panting by now and those boobs Hans had been praising so vehemently were heaving in the worst way, nearly spilling out of her entirely too small bra.

"I just wanted to cheer you up. I can't, I have a can't miss meeting." He took a step back to break the heat building between them but Elsa just followed him and started working her magic, kissing his neck and seductively twirling his tie with one hand while she groped him with the other.

"Please, just a little. A quickie. I'll be fast." As much as Elsa wanted this, they both had a job to get to. But _priorities_.

"I love pregnant sex but it is not fast," Hans countered. He wasn't used to talking someone _out_ of sex.

Tired of being rejected, Elsa took his hand and put in between her legs, encouraging him by stroking it up the length of her silky blue panties. "There, please. _Mmmm_. I can't turn it off once it's like this." And really, Hans only had himself to blame.

"You don't have to be to work for another hour. Can you get that purple toy I got you for Christmas and have some solo fun with it?"

"No!" She barked and shoved herself against him as best she could. "I need penetration. I need you." She was giving him an order.

"Elsa, _please_," he begged. Hans tried to pry her off but she was practically welded to him. "When I get home I will. I will spend the whole night making it worth the wait. I promise. Anything you want."

"Anything?" Pulling her lips away from his jawline with a look of intrigue, head tilted to the side like an adorable puppy dog.

"_Anything_. In fact, use the time at work to think about what you might want." He nodded excitedly.

"I'm the size of a house, my options are kind of limited."

Hans scoffed playfully. "You're just not being creative enough. After work, I'll bring home dinner from that Italian place you've been craving. And then spend the rest of the night giving you dessert," giving her a wink. Food and sex. How could she resist? "And first thing this weekend, we'll go get you some new bras and clothes, stop by the chocolate store, and finish the day off by swinging by the baby girl section at the department store. We don't have enough jammies or girly pink outfits. Didn't you want to look at headbands?"

"Yes!" Elsa gasped excitedly and lit up like a firecracker with the biggest grin that managed to steal his heart every single time. Food, sex, and shopping. He had this in the bag.

"Well hello, smile. Lovely to see you today," giving her a quick peck at the corner of her mouth. "Dinner, amazing, wonderful, mind blowing sex, and a shopping spree for my two most important treasures. Anything you want. As frilly and sparkly as you want. And chocolate." He was beaming with pride as he cocked a brow at her and let a cheeky grin slip wide. "All you gotta do is slick that hair back into one of those naughty librarian buns you like to wear and put on something comfortable. Maybe that teal dress? You look so hot in that."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" wrapping her arms around his neck as a dreamful look swept across her elated features.

"Other way around," he corrected. "It's me who doesn't deserve you."

"That's not true," she argued and kissed the tip of his nose.

"It's still not going to stop me from making it up to you for the rest of my life." One final and very deep kiss, and Elsa was ready to let Hans go and get on with their morning.

"Bye, sweet girl," bending down to kiss Elsa's baby bump before he backed his way out of the bathroom. "Have a good day. I love you. You are sexy. A sex goddess. Don't forget it."

Elsa giggled buoyantly and wrangled Hans back in by his tie for one last kiss. "See you tonight."

* * *

_Next up, I have a two or three shot inspired by an American!Hans in Norway prompt. It's more story like (kind of like By My Side) and is set in Oslo with Norwegian!Elsa. Should be fun and a little steamy. And funny :)_

_Also, if you are a Norwegian reader actually in Norway, pm me because I'm taking a poll. Takk._

_Lastly, if you haven't done so already, check out my Helsa Canon fic, Betrothal, up on my profile page. _

_If you are a With You, The Company, or PPF reader, those were taken down and are not going back up. Some people on tumblr and reddit have links to dropbox copies. Sorry but it's time to separate from that community._


	12. On the Trikk

_This is inspired by a prompt from Newwriter24. I have a story for the actual prompt later but this came about after reading the prompt. This is what I'd like to call "The Adventures of Hans and Elsa in Norway," sort of. The story takes place over the course of a year and is told through snippets, which are titled in English and Norwegian. Here is part 1/3 of Norwegian!Elsa and American!Hans._

* * *

Trikk (The Tram)

He'd met her on the tram traveling west through gelid Oslo, stately tree-lined streets and colorful apartment buildings framing its path as an electric buzz hummed through the car. Hans was running late to meet his brother Lars at a new flat he was trying to land for way too much kroner than he wanted to spend. Actually he'd_ seen_ her on the tram. Cute black boots, leggings, and a plush Canada goose coat to brave the snowy streets in. She had that hypnotic mystique about her where instantly no other girl on the planet existed or could even compare in Hans' smitten green eyes.

She captivated him with her quintessential Norwegian blonde hair, something he'd noticed a lot more women had here, but not as many of them as he'd imagined. However, Elsa's locks were exceptionally long, unashamed of its collective beauty as it mythically hung down her back. She was fair and tragically beautiful, with the biggest sky blue eyes, so reminiscent of the glacier Hans had seen on his "Welcome to Norway" packet from work.

_A look_, his brother had told him. Hans was supposed to give her a look. Because Lars had explained that hitting on and dating girls was a whole different ballgame here. Women were respected and given plenty of distance to make their preferences known. They didn't really do the hard-to-get thing American girls sometimes did. So this one all-important look was supposed to communicate his interest and strike the match of passion between them. Without giving her much more and risk scaring her off.

Hans' hand clutched the yellow railing of the tram. It contrasted so nicely with the dark blue walls that he couldn't help but chuckle about it reminding him of an IKEA. The woman was doing the same halfway down the tram, lanky fingers diligently wrapped around the railing with her other hand holding onto the strap of her messenger bag. Her body rocked to the sway of the tram, and Hans couldn't wait a minute longer once he saw her take a step back to steady herself and got a better view of her pert rear, supple and hugged by those tight black pants.

He glanced back out the window, passively watching gray skies and tall buildings fly by in rapid succession, and waited. Getting his eyes to say everything he wanted was a lot of pressure, but he finally floated them over to her and let them linger. Blue eyes flashed against green, and then Hans causally cast his gaze his back out the window before he returned them to her, percolating her interest.

This time she seemed more curious, not off put, and something was definitely happening. That simmering sensation of attraction prickled the hairs on her arms and her eyes narrowed to study the man trying to capture her attention. Hans smiled to himself, letting her see its simple appeal, and glanced back at her one last time. When their eyes met, Elsa was already smiling back. She breathed an angelic giggle to herself, more air than sound, and Hans instantly felt his body go weak before snapping straight to catch himself. And then she _winked_. She fanned those beguiling lashes at him and didn't break eye contact after that, hooking him like a helpless fish on the end of a lure.

Lars was right. The look had actually worked. And dammit if Hans didn't need to get off the tram to meet his brother at that exact moment. He wanted to stay but wouldn't have a place to live if he did. Aggravated beyond belief, he reluctantly hopped off the tram and sprinted down the street towards the flat. Though his footsteps were not alone.

"Vente (wait)!" A sweet voice called after him, familiar black boots clacking against the wet sidewalk. Hans turned and found the gorgeous blonde frowning bewilderedly at him with the most darling pouty red lips just a few steps behind.

"I'm sorry. I don't speak Norwegian."

"Did you not smile at me on the tram?" She asked without a hint of an accent, puzzled by his sudden departure after such an amusing game of optical seduction.

"I did," Hans replied, apologetic smile tugging at his mouth.

"And I winked back," the blonde countered.

"I know. I'm so sorry, but I had to get off." His head whipped in the direction of the apartment and she figured he must off to somewhere in a hurry.

"But I wanted to give you my number." That was a much bolder move than Hans was expecting, but he jumped at the offer without a beat of hesitation in his shivering cold body.

"Oh, yeah! Absolutely. Can we walk and talk? I'm late, but I'm headed just two blocks away." The woman's striking platinum hair bounced when she nodded, and she hurried alongside Hans as they headed east. "I just got this phone the other day, and I haven't figured out how to switch it to English. It's all in Norwegian. Maybe you could help me?" Holding the useless device in his gloved hand.

New phone, doesn't speak Norwegian, and picks up women he doesn't know on the tram. That only led her to one conclusion.

"Are you American?"

"I am," Hans admitted proudly. "My brother has been living here for a few years, and I decided to come out and join him. I'm not used to anything yet. Including phones and how to properly ask women out on dates."

She smiled warmly at his honesty and found his inability to get his bearings in a new land somehow adorable. This tall, attractive man, with the most interesting sideburns, had no clue where he was and not much of a hope in the world to finding his way around the great urban jungle of Oslo. Poor baby.

"Here, let me help." She took the phone into her slender fingers and set the language to English before punching her number into his contact list. "That's me," flashing Hans the screen with her information, including email address, before she used his phone to call her own.

"Elsa Nørdlander. The women here have such beautiful names but that one by far is my favorite. Elsa," he repeated, entranced by the way it slipped off his tongue and left him feeling a fraction lighter than he was before.

"And what should I put your number under?" Elsa asked, poking her head up to check for oncoming traffic as they crossed the street and passed by a quaint flower shop. Ferly pink carnations and crisp white lilies peeking out to witness to two strangers on the go.

"Hans. Hans Westergard."

Her perfectly shaped brows quirked curiously. "That doesn't sound American."

"It's not. It's Danish. My parents are originally from Denmark. I'm not."

"That makes sense. Where are we headed, if I may ask?" Handing the phone back to him.

"I'm making an offer on a flat, and I have about five minutes left to do so. Here, this one," pointing to a large cream-colored building lined with intricate molding, every unit having its own private balcony. It was a great find, and Elsa believed Hans was perhaps a little too green to know what a diamond he had found.

"This is a _nice_ building. And a fantastic neighborhood, if I do say so myself. I wouldn't live anywhere else but Frogner. Best area of town. I'd take it if I were you." They'd both been busy admiring the aesthetics of the building, but it didn't take long before Hans was drawn back to the aesthetics of the fair-skinned beauty beside him.

"I don't know how to do this," he started nervously. "I want to ask you out to coffee, but I don't know if that's being pushy. I'm sort of out of my cultural element here."

"No. I love coffee," she beamed and bounced twice on the balls of her feet. "I also love texting so feel free to send me as many as you want. There's a bunch of great restaurants and shops in this area. You really can't go wrong."

"Noted," feeling a bit more confident. "So coffee. Tomorrow? It's Sunday so I don't which ones are open." Hans had learned the hard way the previous Sunday when he desperately needed to find a razor, that most places were closed on that day, a total shock for a man used to 24 hour drugstores.

"I know one. I'll text you the address and _explicit_ directions on how to get there from here. If you get the flat that is." She crossed her lengthy fingers for good luck and shook them blithely with all the grace of a ballerina.

"Sounds great." He didn't know whether to shake her hand or hug her or kiss her. That last one was probably wrong. Restrained by unknown cultural dictation, Hans awkwardly stood in front of the glowing blonde and let a charming smile slide across his lightly freckled face.

"Good luck with the flat."

"Thanks. Looking forward to your text."

Hans got a beautiful girl's number and a flat, all in the same wonderful night.

* * *

Forelsket: Falling in Love

Things started off that simply. A run in on the tram and an exchange of phone numbers. As easy as it may have been, it wasn't exactly how Hans was used to picking up women. He normally slinked his arm around some random girl at the club and whispered exactly what she wanted to hear until she fell under his spell, not knowing his intentions usually expired by morning.

This date with Elsa would be his chance to redeem himself after a clumsy first encounter. Even though Elsa said she'd text him the name of a coffee shop, Hans insisted on being the gentleman and picking out a place on his own, doing his best to research every coffee dive in Frogner. He even took suggestions from coworkers and went so far as to scour the reviews on Yelp.

He ended up choosing a place midway between his and Elsa's apartments, a bakery that had a wide selection of mouthwatering pastries and toasty indoor seating. The indoor seating was a must for Hans because while he was used to harsh winters, late February in Oslo was a different type of cold entirely, and it was giving him a thermal beat down.

Huddled at a small table inside the cozy bakery, Hans assumed a more composed version of himself, relaxed and confident as he delighted in watching Elsa finely lift her piping hot cup of espresso to her mouth for a small sip. A frothy line of foam was swept away by a tantalizing tongue, and it was as if every time she moved, he couldn't breathe.

"Hans?"

"Yeah," snapping out of his trance.

"I asked where you're from? You seem to be handling the cold well." Elsa tore off tiny bite-sized bits of her kanelbolle, basically a cinnamon roll but twisted into a more artistic knot than the simple coil he was used to seeing.

The skolebrød Elsa insisted Hans try had disappeared off his place the minute they sat down. The sweet roll with icing and a generous dusting of coconut had been delicious, but not as enjoyable as spending time with Elsa.

"I'm from New York. Manhattan. That's why my brother suggested this neighborhood. He said it reminded him of my old one back home. It's a little more like San Francisco, but I like it enough. Winters can be pretty bad there, but Norway is a different beast. It's sunny out, but I feel like I'm going to get frostbite if I dare take my gloves off."

Elsa took another sip of her espresso and nodded mirthfully, mouth too full of liquid warmth to speak. Hans chuckled, and she used the silence to admire him. Heather grey sweater over a collared shirt. Sleeves casually rolled up to the elbow. Giving her a glimpse of his muscular arms. The kind of muscles she liked. Lean and toned with not too much bulk. He was sitting back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other in a figure four. Smooth, dashing. He could stop her pulse with one of his smiles.

"What is it you do?" She asked after a while.

"My father owns a bunch of oil maintenance companies. You know, the kind that supply engineers and divers to repair the rigs offshore?"

"Yeah."

"I'm helping my brother run the Oslo branch."

"Do you like it?" Ignoring her drink as she leaned in closer.

"I like it all right. Pays well, so I can't complain. Where do you work?" Hans uncrossed his legs and mirrored Elsa, both engrossed in the conversation and leaning into the table.

"I work for an industrial technologies company part of the week, and the rest of the time, I'm finishing up my master's in materials science engineering," ending the whopper of a sentence with a sly smile. Knowing he probably didn't expect that out of her.

"Seriously? That has to be the most intelligent thing I've ever heard a woman say to me."

"What kind of women do you normally hang around?" Hiding her laugh behind the rim of her cup as she took another dainty sip. Really, it was like every part of her body was perfectly choreographed.

"Actresses. Models. Liberal Arts majors. Heiresses. No one as fascinating as you,"

his deep tone making her vibrate like a plucked violin string. She blushed at the compliment, and the image of Hans philandering with young models quickly vanished from her mind. "That's a full week then. School and work."

Elsa shrugged and pushed her half eaten roll aside. "My boss is very lenient about my schedule."

"That's nice of him. Or her?" Attempting to be politically correct.

"Him. And he's my father. I _too_ work for the family company." She blushed harder, all too modest about her family and their wealth as the deep magenta bloomed further across her cheeks.

"Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you blush? Honestly, it's making it difficult to carry on a conversation."

"No. I'm told I'm pretty, but that's about where it ends." She smiled, but Hans could tell there was a sting of pain hiding behind her tone.

"A beautiful materials science engineer. You've clearly been blessed with both hands." Elsa blushed so hard this time, she felt like her cheeks were on fire as she cast her eyes down to her hands folded neatly in her lap. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No. You're flattering me," peering up at him with those fluttering long lashes before her lips pulled into a smirk. "Don't stop."

Not as shy as she led on. He _loved_ that. And he loved how her foot was rubbing his leg under the table even more, just enough to let him know she was enjoying his comments, and his company.

In the midst of her swooning, Elsa had taken the last sip of her drink and left her hand placed face down next to the cup. It didn't go unnoticed by Hans, who slowly quieted her infectious laughter by gallantly taking it in his own, fluidly cruising his thumb over the creamy white skin.

The move made her breath hitch, and her lips parted in awe.

"Too much?" Hans asked hesitantly.

Elsa didn't answer, but instead took things one step further and interlaced their fingers together, admiring the visual of his apricot skin threaded against hers. The swell of what the Norwegians referred to as "forelsket," spread out through her warming chest like a rolling tide. That indescribable rush of euphoria when one begins to fall in love. A word that she'd known her whole life but had felt for the first time only when Hans touched her.

"Will you walk me home?" She asked when they were finished.

The pair left the bakery and shuffled down the icy street towards Elsa's flat. The 'get to know each other' questions had died down, and a comforting silence accompanied them on their journey, hands still clasped tightly together but tucked away inside Hans' protective pocket. It was like a warm burrow just for their blossoming love, if that's what this even was.

Things were happening so quickly, but neither one had ever started out a relationship this way. Hans couldn't really say he'd even been in a relationship, and Elsa hated to give her past trysts the dignity of being called relationships. "Unfulfilling attempts to get to know and bond with another person that ended up being pathetic sexual liaisons that burned her" was a more adequate description of her history.

"You're quiet." He couldn't resist saying something.

"I'm… I-I…" Elsa laughed at her stutter. "I don't know what I am." Whatever she was feeling, she looked positively radiant with a big cheerful smile gracing her features.

"Flummoxed?" Hans guessed.

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. But in the best way," giving her hand an affectionate squeeze.

They arrived at the light blue building, gorgeous and more charming than Hans' but obviously just as pricey, if not more. It was Sunday, and the shops below were empty, slowing the foot traffic enough to allow for a moment of privacy, just standing toe-to-toe at the front entrance.

Hans went to say something, but words refused to come. Elsa was looking at him with parted lips and wide bright eyes, not knowing he'd just opened up a whole world of possibilities to her in one short coffee date. Funnily enough, the quiet between them wasn't awkward; it was welcoming.

Unable to stop the urge raging like an angry bull inside him, Hans bent down and captured the softest lips he'd ever had the pleasure of tasting. It was brief but endlessly gratifying.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if it's appropriate to kiss you so soon, but I couldn't help myself. You held my hand, and at first I was overthinking everythin-"

Those same soft lips cut Hans off and repaid him a visit, gliding between his own.

"Don't apologize," Elsa shushed as she lowered herself down from her tiptoes. "I like you, a lot. I've never been on a date like this, and never with a foreigner I've just met. But you've proven to be worth the risk."

"Can I take you out again? I don't know what the rules are. I only know American dating, and my brother warned me that it's quite different here."

"I'm busy during the week, but text me, please. I want to know more about you. And then we'll figure something out for this weekend."

"This isn't the Norwegian version of 'don't call me, I'll call you' is it?" Glowering back at her.

"No," chuckling at his question. "Where did that suave man from the bakery go?" She ran her hands down the front of his jacket, relishing the fervid warmth of his body heat.

"Well you kissed him, and then he got all thrown off course," he joked.

"I _want_ to see you again. I gave you my number for a reason. Use it," widening her eyes at him. "This isn't a blow-off because if I don't see you again… I'll be really crushed."

She brushed her lips against his, seeking permission for another kiss, which she received in spades.

* * *

Elske (Making Love)

The week flew by, and so did a flurry of texts. Each of them replied when they could, and it surprisingly made the day go by faster. Hans learned a lot about Elsa, what she was writing her thesis on and what kinds of new developments she was working on in the lab at school.

Elsa learned that Hans loved baseball and was, of course, a Yankees fan. He preferred dogs to cats and was a sucker for a home-cooked meal. The thing he missed most about New York was the food, and she promised to show him that Oslo had plenty to offer besides meat, potatoes, and fish.

Friday rolled around, and the two still hadn't made plans for the weekend like Elsa had said they would. Hans spent the evening watching a replay of a basketball game on his laptop because he still couldn't understand much of what he saw on TV.

He was settling in for the night, already changed into some plaid pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt, as he looked around the room and sized up his decorating skills. He loved his new flat, and decided it was his favorite place in all of Norway, except for wherever Elsa was. He missed her.

It was just after eleven when his buzzer went off, and Hans schlepped his way to the intercom to let whomever it was in. It couldn't have been Lars, and no one else knew he lived there.

When he went to answer the door, he was surprised to see Elsa, and then remembered she had walked him to the flat on the day they met.

"Hi," she husked, oozing with as much sex appeal as the tight pants and cropped shirt she was wearing. Her make up was a lot heavier than it had been the last two times he saw her. Dark smoky eyes, pancake white face, and ruby red lips made him wonder just where she'd been. Her hair was also wavy, and he didn't know if it was left over from a braid or the mist drizzling down outside.

"Come in. It's freezing out there."

Elsa waltzed right in, still graceful but a tad more wobbly than usual as she tottered along in her mile-high heels. He was going to invite her to join him on the sofa, but she found her way to his room on her own. When he caught up with her, she had already taken off her coat and heels, sprawling herself out on the bed like a kitten begging for attention.

"Elsa?" Hans asked as he neared the edge of the bed. "Have you been drinking?"

"Yes," she giggled, pupils dilated to the point where he could only see a sliver of blue. "I went to a club with some friends and I could only think about you." She brought herself up onto her knees, nearly flush with the man who stirred this unbridled want so deep within her, and pushed his robe off his shoulders. Next was his shirt, and it slid over his head and onto the floor, making a pile with the robe. "I think we should sleep together," Elsa said seriously and dragged her eyes up to his, tainted with lust and a sense of control Hans hadn't yet seen in her.

She didn't beat around the bush at all, and it unnerved Hans a little. It wasn't like they hadn't talked and hung out enough to not be ready for sex, per say. They _were_ adults. But she was just so upfront about it.

Hans didn't get to answer before Elsa pulled him down onto the bed and straddled his waist. Her tongue raced up the side of his neck, and she nibbled on his ear lobe, holding him down all the while. She sat up in a commanding stance, and a hand reached back to one of the tiny strings holding her halter top on, and Hans just had to say something before things got out of hand.

"Elsa, I don't know if this is a cultural thing, but I'm sensing it's just how you are. I don't know. But are you this clear about what you want with everyone?"

"Yes."

"Lars said I shouldn't give you more than a look that first day, but now you just invited yourself right into my bed. Not that that's a bad thing. I'm just confused."

"I guess, maybe we're more outspoken than men here. Not all, just some. Or at least I am. Guys don't approach us like they do in Southern Europe. Most Norwegian guys I've dated are really shy or rudely immature. And I'm sort of a sexual person. So I have to take the lead to get what I want." It was easier for her to admit that under the guise of alcohol. The entire reason she drank that night was so that she could act and say the things she wanted to around Hans but wasn't sure how to do so on her own.

"Is that how you prefer it? The control thing? I'm just trying to understand so we can figure this out. I don't like to be dominated a lot. Or at all."

Elsa sat back on her bottom and tried to think through her drunken fog, only becoming more morose the longer she did so. "I don't know what I prefer. It's just what I'm used to."

"I must be different somehow. Do you like whatever it is I do differently?" Having no clue how he compared to Norwegian men or the men of Elsa's past.

"Yes. I love it." The frown that had threatened her sweet lips turned back into a luminous smile and she began to play with the band of his pajama bottoms. "I've never been asked out on a date; we don't exactly date like this. But you weren't pushy like I've heard Americans can be. So I liked it. You even held the door open and pulled out my chair for me at the bakery. Again, not the norm here, but I'm not offended because I know your intentions are good." There was a long pause where Elsa bit her lip and then swallowed hard. "I've never experienced romance before. I've been in short-lived relationships. Had sex. _Thought_ I was in love," rolling her eyes. "But I've never been with someone who _tried_ to make me feel loved. Even just opening the door or holding my hand. The way you smile at me. I feel something I've never felt before. It's why I came here."

Countless cranberry vodkas made it almost impossible for Elsa to collect her thoughts well enough to make sense but Hans understood. He gathered what she was trying to tell him was that even though she was a sexual person, she had been looking for relationships in all the wrong places. Whether that had to do with the men available or for some other reason, that wasn't clear to him. But she'd been trying to use sex to get love while he'd been doing the opposite. The truth was, Elsa didn't know such a feeling was possible until Hans came into her life.

Hans held her by the hips and ran his thumbs under the hem of her shirt, which she also loved. He didn't know how he'd gone from playboy of the Upper East Side to now having the most gorgeous woman ever basically hand him her heart on a silver platter with the caveat of treating her better than maybe he was capable of. He knew how to please her and make her feel desired. But she wanted romance, something Hans had never bothered with before but now wanted to lavish upon her in droves.

"You want to sleep together?" He asked. Elsa nodded, and he brushed away the lengthy bangs that fell around her heart-shaped face. "Then why can't we do it so that I make you feel taken care of? Where you still tell me what you want, but I take the lead. I'm not shy by any means. And I'm afraid to be myself because I don't want to scare you off. I really like you, and I want this, whatever we have together, to be more than just about sex. I want something after it. Something lasting."

Two people were now asking each other for something they never thought they wanted. Elsa wanted romance and security. Hans wanted a relationship beyond sex. A new frontier for both.

"So, what do I do?" Elsa asked and cocked her head to the side, platinum mane rolling over her shoulder like flowing champagne.

Hans moved her off of him and helped her lay back onto the center of the bed, pulling the duvet down so that she was comfortable.

"Do you always undress yourself for sex?" Motioning to the uneven strings of her top.

"Yes."

"Not tonight."

Hans took that little string she'd had her fingers on earlier and slowly untied it, loosening the top from around her neck as he unfolded it from the top down, like he was unwrapping a precious gift.

Elsa wasn't wearing a bra, and the farther he pulled her shirt down, the more wintry white skin he exposed. She was ethereal. A svelte little body blessed with ample curves and the most delicious milky white complexion.

This was already new territory for Elsa. Not just being undressed but having someone gaze down on her with the most loving and wanton eyes. Hans placed her hands above her head to keep her from hiding her body, and kissed her nose fondly to keep the mood light. A hand with feather-light touch trailed over her chest, breasts, and stomach, muscles anxiously jumping under his adventurous fingers. It was exhilarating. To feel wanted. To crave his touch. To feel so adored by someone she actually sought affection from. She loved this new man and his new ways. He made her feel like a woman. Like her body was a shrine to worship upon. And it made her feel sexy and frisky, but mostly a new sensation she couldn't describe.

His chest was warm against her side, a fervent heater in the freezing night. He leaned down and kissed her chest, just between her breasts, and the squeak of a whine from Elsa surprised them both.

"You're beautiful. I just want to make you feel good. Is this good?" He took the nearest nipple into his mouth and gave it a good wet kiss.

"Yes," she moaned, simultaneously answering his question.

"You deserved to be treated like a queen," sucking harder as she wiggled her body and pressed herself further into his mouth. She was flushed from the belly button up, and Hans started thinking maybe a light introduction to this new art of seduction might be best. Elsa looked like she might ignite at any moment.

She said she wanted to sleep with him, not have foreplay all night. Hans crouched down so that he was hovering over her stomach and used his tongue to kiss down to her pants, absorbing her essence. She was breathing and moaning and running her beautiful hands through his hair, timid but excited for whatever he had in mind. Hans peeled off her pants and toyed with the band of her panties to tease her just a little more.

A streak of his more daring side came to light when he kissed all the way over the bow of her underwear and down the delicate line of her center, legs falling open to each side to welcome his muscular body between them. Just one more small kiss and he removed the lacy thong before coming back up to reclaim her mouth, soft and pink with a hint of fruity vodka. Her pupils were even wider, and she stared at him with a deep longing neither had felt before.

Hans stopped for a moment. "Doing alright?"

"Fantastic," she breathed, slightly labored.

Hans reached over to the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom, lube, and a hand towel. He was almost embarrassed by the fact that he'd just moved in and already had a sex drawer perfectly organized, with a folded stack of towels, within arms reach. It was more of a force of habit, but he didn't want Elsa to think he was using her or going to forget about her come morning or anything. She was his inspiration to do just the opposite.

"I'm on the pill," she murmured. "And I have a clean health history. I promise."

"I'm clean, too."

Elsa took the shiny gold pouch between her fingers and flicked it back onto the nightstand, having excellent aim for having downed so many drinks that night.

"Then we don't need that," Elsa said with a sexy smile. Hans grinned almost wickedly. He loved that Elsa had a menagerie of sides to her, a countless-sided die of layers and emotions. She was natural and modest one moment and a mischievous vixen the next, the female version of him in some ways.

Hans nodded and proceeded with the lube, before wiping his hands clean and lowering himself down onto her. He joined their bodies together, easing himself in, and Elsa lifted her hips to take him into her the rest of the way with a whispered moan. A passive partner she was not, and Hans was learning that Elsa was not too quick to leave her old ways behind. And he realized he shouldn't expect her to. This was one of those times when two people had to explore and find their own way instead of imposing one person's preferences over the other.

He delved deeper inside her with each push, amazed by how warm and satisfying she was on the inside for having been so chilled to the bone on the outside from wearing an unzipped coat and cropped shirt at night.

They'd both had good sex before, but this pleasure was a symphony of bliss. Hans was gentle yet powerful, a creative lover for sure. He circled his hips and kissed her nipples, palming and kneading the other, finding what she liked best. Her neck. She liked to be kissed softly along that slender column, especially right behind the ear. She also loved it because she could hear him breathing, exhausting himself in the name of love.

Soft whimpers that he had to work for met his own ears. They were fragile and erotic, innocent and girly in a way that drove him crazy.

As Hans moved his hips, Elsa focused her blurred vision on the thrusting man above her. A scant thatch of russet hair covered the very center of his chest, a touch of rugged manliness that encouraged her to skim her hands over its roughness.

Her eyes studied every rut and groove of his body and came across a throbbing vein along his neck, pounding and pulsing more vigorously with each pump of his lower body. She pressed her lips along the line of blue, feeling its fury beneath the soft skin as she inhaled his scent- clean, crisp, robust. _Masculine_.

Thirsty hands hooked under Hans' arms and drank their fill of his strong shoulders and broad back, kindling that flowing pleasure in the pit of her stomach. Droplets of sweat were already forming at the small of his back as her hands glided through the slick warmth and over the steely contours of his ass. Her hands cupped and squeezed, getting a smile from Hans, and then she settled them on his hips.

Elsa pulled on his waist and bucked herself up to him, throwing off their syncopation with her attempts to speed things up. Hans had envisioned their first time being a little less complicated than this, but Elsa was something of a juggernaut. Romance didn't exactly equate to submission, and they quickly found themselves fighting for control, or something. Hans couldn't quite figure it out, but she was getting more aggressive, wanting something more.

"Harder?" He panted, making sure to look her in the eyes.

"Yeah." And she mellowed instantly after he nodded.

He moved one of her hands up next to her head and held it there, breaking her hold on him so that he could really get her deep and maintain a good rhythm. That sent Elsa reeling, and she was panting and writhing more furiously than ever before.

Hans had two revolutions in that moment, having never done so much thinking during sex before. One was that Elsa just had a wild spirit in her but also used physical means to get what she wanted. Meaning she didn't really know how to ask for it. And that lead him to the other conclusion. She'd never been with anyone she could talk to about what she wanted. She had to demand it or take it herself.

From then on he talked her through it, striking up a sexual dialog that led them to smoother waters.

"There?"

"_Oh!_ There! Right there!" Elsa cried, communication proving to be key to their success. Not only was she unfamiliar with talking about what she wanted, it didn't seem like she knew much beyond the basics of what she wanted either. Fortunately, Hans knew plenty about making a woman feel good. He'd never cared in the past, but he still knew how.

He brushed his hand along her inner thigh and gently gave it a push. "Open for me," he said, getting Elsa to finally notice how tight she'd had her legs pressed against his sides. "Good," his deep voice rushing over like thick smoke.

Hans tried a few more things- different variations on their position, massaging that sweet bud below her mound, and pinching her tiny pink nipples. All of which got enthusiastic responses. Attentiveness was what she really needed. Hans did his part and allowed them to create the tempo together, an amalgamation of bodies and passion consuming them entirely.

It finally became the night Hans had envisioned and one Elsa thought would never be possible. Not perfect, but a sign of things to come if they worked at it. He held her close, and they rode each other, lips locked and held in a tight kiss as a wildfire raged below. They found a balance, breaking barriers and blazing new trails. Together.

When Elsa said she was close, Hans let himself go and gave her his all. Her legs squeezed around him, and she clung to his shoulder and neck, shaking and gasping as she pulsed around him. Her body melted into liquid gold, weightless and molten, with undying euphoria. She held him when he came and sweetly kissed his forehead, salt coating her lips as he slowed to a stop.

A few moments passed while they caught their breath and reentered their bodies, having catapulted each other into orbit. Hans' bright green eyes flicked down to Elsa, and a beam of happiness had spread over her face as she laughed softly.

"Better?" Hans puffed, exhausted but delightfully sated.

"Jeg er glad i deg (I'm happy in you)." A version of "I love you" that was just a step below "jeg elsker deg (I love you)," which she only used for very special people.

"I don't know what that means," shaking his head as a bead of sweat flew off his brow.

She smiled warmly and kissed him, tongue shamelessly gliding against his. Using Norwegian wasn't an accident. She just wasn't ready to say she loved him but really wanted to. This way, she got to say it, but keep it a secret at the same time.

Either way, Hans fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face that night and a warm body curled up beside him. He felt renewed and alive, changed in a way he wasn't exactly sure how. But he knew the next morning, he didn't plan on leaving. He wasn't going to sneak off into the night and never call her back. For starters they were at his flat, another first for Hans. And if anything, he was going to sneak off and buy her a dozen pink roses from the floral shop downstairs. Maybe even make her breakfast. Whatever they did, he was counting on a chance at a future together.

* * *

_Thank you to my beta Let-it-geaux and to my Norsk up north, Leahlinn. Tusen takk!_


	13. On the Trikk: Part II

_I lied. This is now a four-shot. But it's done on my end, so I'll get them up pretty quick._

* * *

God Mørgen (Good Morning)

Hans never ended up sneaking off to the floral shop like he had planned. Wooing Elsa with bushels of fresh cut roses would have to wait for another day. He simply couldn't bring himself to leave her side, so angelic and peaceful next him. He watched her as she slept on the pillow she'd stolen from him in the night, wanting so badly to trace his fingers over the fine lines of her back, that resplendent skin calling out to him and just begging to be caressed. But he remembered that she'd had plenty to drink the previous night and was going to wake with a pounding headache or be extremely confused. Or both.

There was blue in the sky that morning, with a touch of pink still lingering at the horizon as if it had been painted. Hans kept the sheer inner liner of the curtains closed, letting in enough sunlight to see but not so much that it would be too harsh for Elsa when she woke up.

Elsa's eyes shifted beneath the faded violet shadow that remained on her lids and started to rouse slowly but surely. Hans tried not to look as excited as he was. He'd never witnessed a woman he'd slept with wake up next to him before. It was kind of nice, the novelty of such a splendid moment.

Her eyes finally blinked open, adjusting to the light as she rolled over onto her side to see Hans and his pleasant face beaming down on her.

"Morning. Hans, remember?" He teased, pointing to himself as Elsa secured the sheet around her chest.

"I wasn't _that_ drunk," sharing a laugh as she pulled her hair out from under her body and flipped it over the back of the pillow. "Your eyes look really green in the daytime."

Good. She was in great mood. Not as hungover as he expected.

"Are you feeling okay? Want some water or something to eat?"

Elsa cleared her throat and mulled over his question, wriggling her toes in an attempt to return to her body after such a deep sleep. "I'm okay, right now. Water later, maybe."

Hans was just smiling at her, propped up on his elbow and unconsciously counting the faint freckles on her cheeks and nose. He was so utterly scrumptious with the sheets pulled down to his waist, wearing as little clothing as she, Elsa guessed, with that exposed line of his hip leading down to a place that made a smile play across her lips.

"Am I the first one you've done this with, since you've been here?" She asked bluntly but in her usually pleasant tone.

"Yes."

Her eyebrows rose playfully, one slightly higher than the other. "So first Norwegian girl?"

"Yes. Though that wasn't the goal when I met you, remember?"

"What was the goal?" Things suddenly taking a more serious turn.

"To talk to you at first. My brother told me not to overtly hit on you or anything. I'm clueless about how people date here, and I saw you on the tram. I just wanted to get to know you."

She let out a content sigh and snuggled deeper into the pillow, elegantly folding her hands over her chest as gently as two falling leaves, one and then the other. "I think we're getting to know each other _quite_ well." Her cheeks colored, and they smiled at each other, silently reminiscing about the past week.

"I am learning something new about you every day. And night," Hans added.

"What did you learn last night?"

Hans almost stopped himself but said it anyways. "That you scream when you come."

Elsa blushed seven shades of red and pulled the sheet over her head, mortified.

"It's not a bad thing. I _loved_ it," rubbing her side and ribs through the taut sheet.

Elsa shriveled and sank deeper towards the foot of the bed. "Oh, let me die."

"Come out of there." Hans tickled her relentlessly, but she kept the sheet pulled tight. Finally after enough squirming and giggling, she gave in and revealed her thoroughly embarrassed face.

"God, you're gorgeous," he cooed without thinking. "I know I'm probably doing this all wrong, but can I please take you out to breakfast? Coffee? Something? I can't let you leave on an empty stomach." His index finger rubbed the side of her arm, still warm from sleep and softer than a cloud.

"I love that you're different," brightening at the tender caress he bestowed upon her. It was so much better than the awkward mornings she'd faced with other men, so tongue-tied once the sun rose. None of them ever lay like this and talked with her like Hans was.

"Different in a good way, right?"

"Yes," she assured. "Can I tell you something?" She scooted closer to him and smoothed her hand over his chest, nails tickling him just a bit. "You're the first American I've slept with. Or first non-Norwegian guy I've ever been with." Her eyes were filled with this unbelievable honesty; like she was trying to tell him something more, but the liquid courage had run out.

"I feel like this is a test I'm failing at. I'm sure I'm doing everything wrong," Hans gruffed.

"I said different in a good way. I have never gone to coffee or any other meal with a guy I didn't know. I'm not even used to conversations after sex either."

"That makes two of us."

"But," laying a finger over his lips to keep him quiet. "I've never had a man do some of the things you did to me last night." And now her lips were dangerously close to his.

"Like what?" He mumbled through the digit still pressed against his mouth.

Elsa removed her finger and came in for a soft kiss, her ambrosial lips sweeter than honey. "That's for me to know."

So she liked to play coy and keep secrets. He liked that flare of vamp he kept getting glimmers of. It spurred him so much that he nibbled her bottom lip a little the next time it brushed against his. The hum Elsa breathed against his mouth let him know that it was okay to not treat her like a porcelain doll all the time. She liked a little spice.

"So breakfast?" His green eyes wild with optimism.

"Movies? Sunday?"

"Why Sunday?" Seemed like an odd day for a date to him. And everything was usually closed.

"Because Saturday I spend time with my parents out at their house in Nesøya."

"Oh." She was a family girl. "I don't know where that is."

"It's an island about twenty minutes west. My father is really into sailing, and he has his own dock and everything."

"Okay, Sunday."

"Right. There's a theater not far from here that I think you'll really like."

"Can I pay for you and hold the door open?" Grinning with hope.

"Door, yes. Pay, no."

"So I can never pay?" Sounding whinier than he wished.

"Don't get so hung up on rules. We're different but that doesn't mean I'm not understanding. Or flexible. Next time, okay?" Winning him over with another velvety kiss. "I don't need to be taken care of financially."

"Again, first time a woman has ever said that to me. You're smart _and _independent."

Elsa laughed melodically before rolling out of bed, popping up, naked as the day she was born, and stretching like a cat into the shape of a crescent moon. She was _limber_. Even sober, she was completely comfortable with being nude in front of Hans. He chalked it up to the European upbringing. Elsa padded over to Hans' side of the bed and started to get dressed, finding her shirt still tucked under his pillow.

Hans watched like he was admiring a sunrise or some gorgeous scenery in its natural splendor. Her dark purple halter-top went back over her braless breasts, and she slipped her heels on, growing another few inches and looking sinfully sexy for it being so early.

When she was done, she came and sat next to Hans on the edge of the bed, doing her best to find her courage, which was surprisingly becoming easier around him.

"I don't want you to think that just because I drank last night that I don't remember what happened. I know what I said, and I was being honest. I have a hard time being that open on my own. But with you it's easier." She ran her hand through the side of his hair and flashed him another sweet smile.

"I get it," he said and nodded.

Elsa made herself a little more comfortable and began to braid back her hair while Hans sat up and leaned back against the headboard, entranced by her fast-working fingers as they wove all that thick hair into one long blonde rope.

"What are you going to do today?" Twisting a hair tie around the end of her plait. She talked to him as if they were already a couple, with such ease and an uncanny sense of care in her voice.

Hans groaned because he didn't have an exciting answer. "Errands. And I have to find a home goods store. Everything around here is boutique stuff."

Elsa's eyes popped open, looking even more blue in the light, and laid a hand on his bicep.

"You should go to House of Oslo. It's not far from here, over in Vika," she chirped. Overjoyed to be his human Google.

"I don't know where Vika is, but I'm sure I can find it."

"You'll like it. It's big and has lot of housewares. Do you have a car?"

"Not yet, but Lars won't mind tagging along and bringing his."

They paused and relished the quiet.

"Hope you find something good. I'll see you tomorrow," Elsa said with one of her beautiful smiles before leaning in and kissing Hans slowly.

"See you tomorrow."

On Sunday evening, Elsa sent Hans directions to a place called Colosseum Kino on the east side of the city. She met him there and, true to her word, insisted upon paying for her own ticket. Hans didn't put up an argument because he'd done a ton of research on dating a Norwegian girl in the past 36 hours and paying every single time they went out probably wasn't something Elsa wasn't going to approve of. Equality was very much alive in Norway, and gallant acts of treating his date weren't part of the game.

Not only did Hans not need to pay for her, but he'd also done a little research on Elsa's father, and he was insanely wealthy and lived in one of the most affluent areas outside of Oslo. He was flat out richer than Hans' father and offering to pay for Elsa, especially when she had her own job and money, was even more reason to let her stand her ground and pay her way.

Elsa was a little quieter than usual at first, but things changed once the movie started and she held Hans' hand and snuggled into his chest like he was her human body pillow. She even snuck a few kisses in during the slower parts of the film and eventually brought his hand to rest between her crossed legs, sandwiched nicely between those shapely thighs. It didn't occur to him until later that she had been drunk the other night and may have been more reserved now because of the unfiltered feelings she'd shared with him in bed. And so it was understandable why she was a little more reserved but still so very affectionate.

He thought about it as they sat in the theatre, nice and grand enough to be worthy of an opera house, that she was meeting him halfway. She'd picked a theatre that was something a foreigner would have found interesting and chose an American movie, just for him. And the snuggles and handholding were almost just as good as the sex had been.

Her thumb made these little circles around his knuckle that tickled but warmed his heart at the same time. Her breath ghosted against his neck once she leaned against his shoulder, and he was instantly addicted to the redolent smell of her golden hair. She was colder than he but warmed in his hold, making her cheeks glow rosy red. This was what he'd been missing all along. The endless nights of torrid sex and easy girls were nothing compared to this beauty tucked safely under his chin.

And though he was enjoying the moment immensely, he was terrified at the same time. Because he was falling for her. He felt like the falling part had already happened, and he was in love with her now. A girl he'd known for a week. And he couldn't picture his life without her. Imagining how losing her, even after coffee, sex, and a single trip to the moves, might destroy him if it ended. Love was certainly frightening.

* * *

Søta (Sweetie)

Hans was finding his way around the city and settled into his new job and flat quite nicely. Elsa came over a few more times to help him get acquainted with the TV stations, and she always held his hand and played footsie with him once they cozied up on his new couch. Hans never ended up understanding the flow to the evening news because they were usually making out pretty heavily by the time it came on.

Elsa invited Hans to her place, and he was floored by how big it was. Ethereal blue curtains and white furniture gave him more of a glimpse of the woman he was head over heels for. A foreigner and a native from two very different worlds seemed to be gelling together rather well.

A few weeks rolled by, and they'd fallen into a pattern of staying at each other's flats on the weekends. Elsa was also on a mission to get Hans to fall in love with Oslo as much as he'd fallen for her, which was asking a lot since he still felt like a fish out of water.

She took him to the Viking Ship Museum and Akershus Fortress. She was loaded with facts and always gushed with enthusiasm about her heritage. Hans loved Akershus Fortress the most, but not for its grand turrets and breathtaking interiors. He'd loved the simple swirl of cotton candy he and Elsa shared on the grassy banks overlooking the ship terminals below. Sticky pink clouds stuck to her fingers as she shoved fluffy bits into Hans' mouth, always chasing it with sugary kisses.

"Sucker spin." Hans butchered the pronunciation of cotton candy in Norwegian, but Elsa just smiled and corrected him politely.

"Sook-er-shpin (sukkerspinn)," with more gusto and a much better, _sexier_, accent.

Hans gave it another shot and came much closer the second time before sucking Elsa's fingers clean. Norwegian was so hard to learn, and he was only trying for Elsa's sake. He wanted her to hear him speak her language instead of her always having to speak English around him.

Hans couldn't nail sukkerspin or much of anything else in Norwegian, but he was determined to learn some pet names to call her. Baby, honey, and angel were great, but he wanted something Norwegian.

A late afternoon meeting had just wrapped up, and Hans excused the men, asking the ladies to stay behind. Embarrassed, but with no one else to ask, he explained to the ladies that he was seeing a girl that he cared about very much and asked them if they would be willing to give him some tips and suggestions on terms of endearment.

They all perked at the sweet request and were more than happy to help him. He was amazed just how eager they were but was thankful to have some local insight.

"Oh! Call her søta," a woman from accounting exclaimed. "I love when my husband calls me that. It's like sweetheart or baby."

"Perfect!" Hans scrambled to write down everything the ladies threw at him, still getting used to writing that slash through the center of those O's.

"Min skatt. With two t's," another suggested. "It means my treasure."

Hans added it to the list and then popped his auburn head back up. "How do I say girlfriend?"

The room went quiet for a moment as Hans waited with his pen pressed to the pad.

"How serious are you two?" Someone finally asked.

"Does that matter?"

"Yes." The women all chimed in unison.

"Um... we're still in the beginning stages, I guess."

"Then you can't call her kjæreste yet." The older women left it to a younger intern to speak on their behalf, nodding as she did so.

"Why? What does it mean?"

"Girlfriend, but it's more than that. One I hold dearest to me," bringing her hands to her heart. "My boyfriend didn't call me that until after a year."

"I have to wait a year?!"

The ladies giggled sympathetically. He was so handsome yet so lost in the ways of Nordic love. "Just wait until she says it first."

Hans had gotten all he needed but decided to take advantage of the plethora of information at his fingertips. "My girlfriend asked me to be romantic, which, for the record, I am. What kind of romantic things do men do here?" His question was met with a roar of laughter.

"Rare is the Norwegian man that is romantic. Especially at your age," an older woman said.

"So if I buy her flowers or chocolate. Take her to a nice dinner. Tell her she's beautiful. Is that overdoing it?"

"No, but she may ask you to marry her if you do that regularly." The women were all looking at him moony-eyed, and he suddenly came to understand where Elsa's craving for his romantic and caring side came from. He was only a month into the relationship, but if being romantic got Elsa to want to marry him, Hans was fine with that.

"Thanks for the help, ladies."

On Saturday, Elsa came home from her parents' house early so that she could spend the night with Hans. She drove straight to his place, and when she arrived, there was a note on the door from him explaining that he had a surprise for her. Thrilled, she swung the door open and found a trail of blush pink rose petals leading to his bedroom.

Gracefully tiptoeing with amazement, she sidestepped the flowers but breathed in their fragrant smell along the way.

_Mmmmm_.

When she got to the bedroom, Hans was there with a stunning blue dress hanging from his outstretched hand and a grin on his ecstatic face. He was so proud of himself but even more excited to wow her.

The flowers stopped at Hans and were scattered all over the well-made bed with a small wrapped box and basket of strawberries resting in the center.

"What is all this?" She asked, heart skipping with wonder.

"_This_ in my hands is a dress," his russet brows bouncing as he lifted the dazzling frock.

"I know that. What's it for?"

Hans dropped the suave act and reached for her hand, holding it as he revealed his plans in the most sincere voice. "I am taking you to the ballet. I don't know if you like ballet. I took a guess. But I heard the opera house is something worth seeing. Over there on the bed is a home kit for chocolate fondue. That's for later," suave tone retiring as he grinned seductively and flicked his eyes over to the bed.

"I don't have shoes." So overcome with emotion, it was the only thing that came out of her mouth.

"I bought shoes. I bought you a whole outfit. I checked your sizes at your place when you were in the shower last week. And I know you don't want me to pay for things, but there was no other way to surprise you. At least that's what I told myself."

Dark blonde eyebrows pinched ever so slightly as Elsa's bottom lip trembled. "You're taking me to the ballet in a dress that you picked out? And then you're going to bring me back here for chocolate fondue in bed?"

"Yes."

Elsa didn't say anything more but made a small sound, and then her chin quivered. The ladies were right. She was overtaken with the power of his impressive American romance skills.

"Søta?" Hans cooed sweetly, and Elsa nearly fell over. "You don't have to say anything. You've been playing tour guide for weeks now, and you've been hammering away at that thesis during the week. On top of work. Let's just go have fun."

She was able to repress the tears of joy as she ran into his arms to give him a hug.

"You called me søta," Elsa whispered with her hands flung tightly around his neck, clearly moved by his huge gesture.

"And I'll do so several more times tonight. Unless you prefer something else."

She took a second to close her eyes and think about all the times she'd let herself believe that each guy she fell for would be able to make her feel the love she carried for them. And none had ever returned her feelings the way Hans was. He not only made her feel like a princess, but he put her comfort first, being so understanding and flexible with her. He may not have been able to catch onto the equality movement the way the natives had, but he managed to make her feel respected nonetheless.

The flowers, the dress, and even the chocolate were great. But showing how much he loved her was what brought her to tears in the end.

"No. It's perfect," unwinding herself from his strong frame to dry her eyes. "Let's go have fun."

The ballet had been beautiful, but nothing compared to the dance Hans' tongue did later against Elsa's alabaster skin as he licked melted Swiss chocolate off her stomach. And the sounds she made were better than any applause the performers might have received. They loved each other, and they both knew it. Only thing that was left was to say it.

* * *

Klubben (The Club)

The music was pumping, and the club was packed with the young and beautiful of Oslo. And then there was Lars, Hans' older brother. While he was almost just as handsome, he was older than Hans by a good five years. Being one of the few men in his thirties at the club, Lars grabbed a table in the back with Hans while Elsa moved that gorgeous body of hers to the house mix blasting over the speakers.

Hans sipped on one of the priciest beers he'd ever had while Lars went straight for the Aquavit shots. He'd taken to Scandinavian drinking customs rather well and was there to get hammered. He glanced over at his younger brother who was grinning like a fool at his new girl.

Elsa was smashed together with a small group of friends, hips swaying and hair flipping in her provocative skin-tight dress. The cutest part was that she kept looking back over her shoulder at Hans, flashing flirty smirks and sexy glances to let him know she was still thinking about him, even if he wasn't that far away.

"She's really pretty. When Mom and Dad find out you're dating a Norwegian girl, they'll promote you to most favorite son. Especially one like _that_," tilting the bottom of his glass to Hans' honey working it to the pulsating beat.

"I don't care what they think," Hans scoffed. "I haven't told them anything. We just recently started making things official. Or exclusive, I should say. I don't know. She's not like the girls back home who need to put a label on everything. Monogamy is implied."

"And that's doable for you now?" Raising his auspicious brow to his younger brother.

"Look at her," shifting his eyes over to Elsa. "What _wouldn't_ you do for a girl like that? The old me has died. And she's given me this new lease on life."

"You look happier. Don't miss that redhead from NYU at all?" Jabbing Hans with an elbow.

"Anna?" Face puckered like he'd just sucked on a lemon. "She always wanted what I couldn't give her. I felt suffocated." That memory deserved another swig, and Hans finished off his beer before ordering another.

"So the old you is dead?"

"Yes. And you know how I know? This is kind of crude, but we're headed towards drunk here. I would rather go down on her than have great sex on some nights. That in and of itself is fulfilling enough. And holding her hand is _amazing_. I didn't know holding a woman's hand could feel like a drug."

Lars laughed and clinked glasses with Hans when his drinks arrived. "Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. You really are a new man. You normally didn't give a shit if the girls enjoyed themselves."

"It's different. I love Elsa."

"Different how?" Lara asked with a slur. "Besides her being an 11. Actually she's pretty hot. I don't think I can count that high this drunk."

Hans' eyes never left Elsa as he spoke. "She's classy. Graceful, proper, feminine. Poised. Everything Mom would love. Her parents are wealthier than ours, so she has that regalness about her. She's hot, yeah. But she's sweet as hell and cute as a button. Then she's got this adventurous side, which can be a lot to handle at times. And did I tell you how smart she is?"

"Not yet."

"She's brilliant. Has all these amazing ideas and does this groundbreaking research. I'd be buying stock in her father's company if I were you because she going to make that man even more wealthy than he already is."

The two men sipped in their drinks, letting the music drown out their thoughts, when Lars came back to life.

"I'm three shots in, so I'm going ask. The sex?" Wiggling a brow. Lars wasn't seeing anyone so he might as well live vicariously through his brother.

"Trickier than you'd think," giving a wave to Elsa. She blew him a kiss back. "We're more like minded in that area than we thought. But it's working out, and when it's on... it's unbelievable. And the funny thing is, great sex is great, but I love just holding her too. She's so tiny I just swallow her with my arms; I like feeling like I'm her protector or something."

"Ain't love grand?"

Back out on the dance floor, Elsa friends couldn't hold their tongues any longer. "Elsa, how's your American boy?" One of her friends shouted over the music. She'd been staring at him all night, and they figured they might as well ask.

"Fine," Elsa answered with all the discreteness in the world, but the grin on her face gave everything away.

"He's hot," another said, casting her gaze to the man who captivated Elsa's attention.

"Yeah," Elsa responded, still playing coy as she glowed under the flashing lights of the club.

"Look at you. Don't lie. You're getting lots of hot American sex, aren't you?!"

She didn't answer, enjoying the game of kiss and don't tell. Just letting her radiating features and ear-to-ear grin speak for themselves.

"You are! I'm so jealous. Does he have a brother?"

"Twelve. One of them is sitting with him," nodding over to Lars.

"He a nice guy? You like him?"

Elsa's eyes gazed back at Hans, and she slowed her dancing for moment. "I love him."

"You lucky bitch. You deserve it." Her friends were clearly drunk by this point.

A tall redhead broke their circle of estrogen chit chat and wrapped a hand around Elsa's waist from behind. "Hi ladies. Mind if I dance with Elsa for a while?"

"Not at all." The group cleared out and gave the two some privacy.

"C'mere you." Hans pulled Elsa to him, and she melted against his body, nose pressed right up against him as he snaked the other arm around her waist and kissed her.

"Miss me?" Giving him those salacious bedroom eyes.

"Always."

It was so loud that it was the only conversing they did before they let their bodies do the talking. Elsa didn't hold back and wowed Hans by pressing herself right up to him, moving those fierce hips and dancing with her arms possessively around his neck. Public displays of affection appeared to be permitted at the club, especially with so many people drinking, that Hans didn't bother holding back either.

He let his eager hand follow the curve of Elsa's back and splayed it over her plentiful rear. She cozied up closer to him and kissed him on the neck, and for the first time Hans told himself that life couldn't get any better.

When the song changed, Elsa turned around and ground herself into Hans, hips connected with her ass circling his front. His hands fell to her waist as she writhed her back against his chest. It was sexy and passionate, and they felt one with the beat and with each other; whole and unbreakable. Like they were untouchable. Hans felt lucky, for once in his life. They both did. Having each other made them feel like they were flying above all the other mere mortals who weren't fortunate to have someone to love.

* * *

Kjæreste (The One Dearest to Me)

One Sunday, they were at the grocery store, shopping together for the first time, and it all felt harmoniously domestic. To think Hans had been playing grab ass with all the young socialites in NYC, and now he was just as content, if not more, watching Elsa's cute rear as she reached for a bag of chips from the top shelf.

"Paprika. Have you tried these yet?" Tossing the bag into his basket.

"No. I am still so lost when it comes to grocery shopping."

"They're good. You'll like them." He knew he would. He liked anything Elsa picked out for him but knew he'd love the chips because she'd feed them to him. Anything bite-sized that he'd never had before, she fed to him and followed it with a kiss.

"It's just a grocery store. What's so confusing about it?" Leading Hans around the corner as they passed the sandwich spread display.

"Why does everything come in tubes? I mean even caviar does."

"Why shouldn't it? You're going to put it on bread or cheese of some sort, and it's just most convenient."

When Hans stopped and looked at the tubes of sandwich spread, he thought about how many knifes he'd dirtied just making peanut butter and jelly because he didn't like to mix the two spreads in the jars. Okay so maybe tubes did make sense.

They continued to wander around the store, and Hans asked questions as they popped into his head.

"How come there's so much candy?" He quizzed as he stood in front of a massive display of colorful sweets. There must have been over thirty bins of candy that stretched the height of the aisle.

"It's for Lördagsgodis." Hans looked even more confused. "My father did this when I was growing up. It's a tradition where you wait until Saturday to have your sweets. And you get to come to these bins and fill up your bag. Don't mock the bins. They are fond memories for me." Hans nodded, and they made their way to the bakery where he had even more questions.

"The bread machine," he said. "I'm too afraid to try it, and the directions are all in Norwegian." Before Hans was a machine about chest height that he'd seen people using to cut their bread but was far too intimidated to use. But Elsa never judged so he didn't mind confessing this to her.

"What have you been buying?" She giggled at his adorableness. It also shocked her that other countries didn't have bread slicers in their stores.

"Pre-sliced white bread."

"Løf (white bread)?!" Elsa gasped like he'd committed some sort of culinary crime. "No, no, no. Don't ever buy pre-sliced or white bread again. You're missing out." Elsa set her basket down and picked up a loaf of delicious looking whole grain. "Try this, it's amazing." Her head tilted back with ecstasy, something Hans had seen her do plenty of times in different situations, but this time, her foodgasm was due to the crisp little loaf in her hands. "All you do is lift this lid, put the bread in, and bag it when it comes out." Like it was so easy.

"So, show me," Hans begged, but Elsa refused. Tonight love meant learning to slice his bread like a big boy.

"You can do it. I'll talk you through it. How else will you learn, American boy?" Smirking at him playfully. Hans nervously took the loaf from her hands and hovered it over the strange contraption. "Lift the lid. Put the bread in." Elsa had all the patience in the world as Hans slowly followed her directions. "Close the lid. Hear it rumbling?" Eyes lighting up like Christmas lights. "That means it's working."

The loaf made its trip through the top of the machine, and in a few seconds, a freshly cut loaf shimmied out of the bottom like a bakery slot machine.

"Then place it up here; that'll hold it while you bag it." Hans held the bread together on both ends with all the concentration in the world because this wasn't about bread anymore. This was about impressing Elsa and earning his Norwegian grocery shopping merit badge. And he slid the loaf into the holders at the top of the machine. "Slip the plastic over it and then the paper, and you're done."

As soon as Hans slid the paper over the loaf, he held it up like he'd just caught the world's biggest trout and was showing off his prize for the cameras.

Elsa clapped her hands once and jumped with excited at her man's achievement. "Kræreste! You did it!" Giving him a huge hug and crushing the loaf between them. But again, this wasn't about bread.

"Kræreste?" His smile faltering. She finally said it.

"Of course. That's what you are to me."

Hans dropped the loaf on the floor and took Elsa up in his arms again. "Kræreste. Oh, min skatt, søta, elskede." He used every word he could remember from his list, terrible accent and all.

"Where did you learn all that, and how long have you been holding it in?"

"You don't want to know. I got carried away. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I'm flattered we're having this moment over bread." All joking aside, they knew they had moved into the next level of their relationship just then. Elsa grabbed the front edges of Hans' coat and looked deep into those emerald eyes that held the world to her. "Seriously, _k__ræreste_. Don't hesitate to use it."

After the love fest in the bakery, Elsa showed Hans some great things to try from the seafood section, some in tubes of course, and picked out a few cheeses for him to sample later. Hans was so moved by the whole shopping experience that he grabbed Elsa by the shoulders, interrupting her path towards some liver pâté, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

"I should have said it back in the bakery. I'm normally not this reserved about such things, but I don't say this often. I love you."

Other shoppers minding their own business passing by Hans could have cared less. "I completely get what all those poets and love songs are taking about. You're my sun. My moon. The light of my life. My reason for breathing. I don't care how different we are or how hard it is to adjust to a new place. I love you. I've never said that to anyone like I'm saying to you. To hell with rules. I had to say that." He was practically panting from the passion in his voice.

Elsa took a quick look around her and spied a little old lady smiling at them. Young love, who could blame them? She giggled and fluffed her bangs back, slightly embarrassed but more overcome with emotion. True to her own more private form, she leaned in and whispered into his ear, "I love you too, Hans." Then she tossed a of can of pâté into the basket and lead him to the cashier.

They rode the tram back to Elsa's apartment, bags at their feet and a hand on Elsa's hip as they traveled back to Frogner. Hans thought about the first time he'd seen Elsa holding onto the same rail she was gripping now. He'd gotten his wish and managed to enter her world.

Elsa kissed Hans' cheek and whispered 'kjæreste' into his ear the whole way back because he loved the way she said it. Perfect accent and that husky tone undoing him every time. She was his, and he was happy.

In the store and on the tram, Elsa had been shy. But when they got home and finished putting their groceries away, she took Hans to the bedroom and showed him exactly what it meant to be the one who was dearest to her.

* * *

_So this is all leading to something, believe me. It's much more difficult than this for two people with opposing backgrounds to come together and STAY together. Part III is all about the relationship being tested, and should be up soon :)_

_I have shied away from reviews in the past because other shippers have been downright mean, but Helsa shippers are the sweetest and have renewed my faith in fanfiction readers. If you like what you're reading, let me know :). Reviews are greatly appreciated and very motivating. If there's a prompt you've got in mind, send it to me (even if it's a prompt based on something already written for THF, like a spin off or continuation of a previous chapter). Have a great week!_


	14. On the Trikk: Part III

_My apologies for such a long break between updates. Life was flying at warp speed last week. But that's over and it's time for more Helsa in Norway!_

* * *

Snøstorm (Blizzard)

Elsa burst into Hans' apartment covered in snow with her ruby red scarf wrapped like a boa constrictor up to her eyes.

"You look like a snow cone, søta. Bad out there?" Hans chuckled as Elsa sluggishly kicked the packed-on snow off of her boots.

"Yeah. As you can see," gesturing to the fact that she looked she'd been pelted with powdered sugar.

It had started snowing lightly the day before but turned into the worst blizzard Oslo had seen the entire winter, wreaking havoc on the city that had hoped to welcome spring instead of a second return of winter.

Hans watched as his snow angel continued to strip off her gloves, coat, and beanie, revealing her slender frame as the clothing fell into a pile on his couch. She was too spent from the two-hour commute through the snow to hang it up like she normally did.

"It was terrible last night. Is it normal for it to snow this late in March?" Hans asked.

Elsa removed her outer sweater- the first of two, it was that cold- and came to give Hans a big hug and kiss, pulling his toasty warm face towards hers. "No, it's not. This is more of a freak occurrence. And it's chaos out there. It was so bad last night. I was at school and had to stay at my friend Jørgen's flat." She laughed a little, and Hans did the same out of habit before it died in his throat.

"Jørgen? Is that a guy or a girl?"

"Guy," she'd answered so casually that it scared Hans.

"You stayed at a guy's place last night?" Hans' lighthearted expression dropped so fast Elsa swore she could hear it hit the floor with all the force of an anvil.

"Yes," still acting like it was no big deal, which terrified Hans even more.

"Did you take the couch or did he?" There was a reasonable explanation to all this. There _had_ to be.

"Why would I make him take the couch at his own place? That's so rude." Elsa rubbed her hands together attempting to warm them up as she moseyed into the kitchen to search his cupboards for something to make a hot drink with.

Hans followed close behind, trying to keep his ticking time bomb of a temper under control as Elsa pulled a mug out and flashed him a tired smile, like everything was fine.

"So you took the couch?" Hoping to find the saving grace in all of this.

"No. I slept in his bed." And that drove Hans off the edge as the barrage of mental images of his precious søta curled up with another man.

"You slept with a guy named Jørgen last night? Like in his bed?! With him?!" He took a step back from Elsa and looked at her with eyes filled betrayal and _anger_.

Miffed by the sudden distance that had come between them, Elsa shook her head, totally confused by Hans' reaction. "Yes. I don't understand why you're so upset."

Hans put his hands on his hips and looked away, scoffing, before narrowing his heated gaze back on her. "Did you sleep with him?" The question roiled in the pit of his stomach, making him feel like he might retch over the very idea of his beloved kjæreste with anyone else but him.

"Yes. I just said that," throwing her hands up as her voice grew louder.

"No," he cut sharply. "Not that kind of sleep. Did you _fuck_ him?"

Now she understood where Hans, and all of his hysteria, was coming from. Her face went slack with remorse, and her hands flew over her heart. "God, no. I've known him since secondary school, and he lives on campus. It was crazy out there, and I didn't want to risk going home so late with it snowing like that." Hans' facial expression didn't change, but Elsa's drew more serious. "I have _never_ had romantic feelings for him. Ever. And I would never do that to you."

Heavy breaths of stifled rage puffed through Hans' flaring nostrils as he tried to control himself. "Have you slept with other guy friends?" Sounding a little less upset.

"Yes." In the non-fucking kind of way, Hans gathered.

"So this is a normal thing? I'm the one out of line?"

A regretful huff burst from Elsa's chest, shrugging at how easily they'd gotten lost in translation. "I hate to say it, but yes, you are. There's no difference between a guy and girl when it comes to friends. And we sleep in the same bed because it's comfortable. It's rude to make that person sleep on the couch, and it's also rude to make the guest sleep on the couch. I don't understand what I did wrong," balling her hands at her sides.

This was definitely an argument bordering on a fight, and they'd never reached this point before.

"Why is everything in this country so backwards?!" Hans circled the room as his anger boiled to a frenzy. "In the States, what you did is practically cheating. Not exactly the same but skirting the line. But I'm on your turf so I'm not allowed to be mad about it."

One thing about Elsa was that she may have been shy at times, but in an argument, she didn't back down, and she met Hans' frustration with a dose of her own.

"I don't get why you're mad. I'm with _you_. I'm only having sex with _you_. I'm not one to stand for cheating either," annoyance written about her tensing features.

"Sharing a bed is a special thing," he countered. "You usually do it with people you love _romantically_. _Intimately_. Some things should be sacred." He wasn't angry anymore. Just hurt. The flames dwindled, and the tension eased up. Hans wasn't an emotional man, but the way he felt about her made him act in ways that were still foreign to himself. Because he'd never loved before.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd feel like this," withdrawing her defensive tone. Because she loved him too.

Hans roughly ran his hands over his mouth and took a deep breath. "It's fine. There's just a lot of adjusting. That one's kind of a biggie. Did you... cuddle?" Holding back the bile that made him gag.

Elsa shook her head, looking even more tired but showing more compassion after gaining a little clarity. "No, I just went to sleep." She spoke much more softly, but it didn't vanquish that somber look from his face. "Why do you look so sad?" Taking a step closer.

"I don't know when I turned into a sentimental sap, but I have. I didn't realize I had a jealous streak too, but I do. I don't want others touching you like I touch you. I don't want anyone sleeping next to you. I don't even want to think about it. That's such a close space and it's... I don't know. _Intimate_. I won't say you're mine because I know how independent you are. But you have me. I'm yours. Now take that to mean something because I have never, _ever_ said that to another woman. My heart, my body, even my home, I share only with you. I want the same, but I can't ask for that."

There was long pause, and Elsa found herself unable to get on the same ground as Hans. And she needed to give in order to do so, no matter how difficult it was. "I'm not something to be owned, but I understand what you mean. I won't sleep in anyone else's bed from now on. It's not a normal occurrence anyhow. If it's disrespectful to you, it's off limits for me. You shouldn't be the only one to make all the changes. We both have to. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm learning a lot about myself lately. I'm quick-tempered."

"But you love furiously. You got so mad because you care about me. That's all."

"I do." No one had moved in the last few minutes, and by that point, they were both afraid to be the first to do so. "I was going to take a quick shower and then make us breakfast. That okay?" Hoping to return to some sort of civilized normality.

"Yeah. Sounds good," Elsa smiled. "Can I lay in your bed? I actually didn't sleep very well last night, and it was hard getting here."

She hadn't slept well, not because of the storm but because she'd missed him. Somehow Hans sensed that in her tired sapphire eyes as they fought to stay awake, lids growing heavier by the minute.

"Please," waving his hand towards the bedroom. "Get some sleep."

Hans hopped into the shower and breathed his stress out into the billowing steam, relishing the soothing heat of the scalding hot water trickling down his body and washing away his foul mood. He was just finishing rinsing out his shampoo when a knock came at the door, and Elsa pulled back the curtain, poking her head in like a blonde cuckoo bird.

"I just wanted to say that I thought about what you said. I _am_ independent and stubbornly so. But I am yours. In the sense that you mean. My body, my heart. Yours."

Hans stopped and let a smile creep across his overjoyed face, ignoring the water hitting and trailing down the curve of his spine. He'd been mad, but she just gave him that little bit of give and take their relationship needed, a confirmation of her love for him, what he'd been waiting for. Falling in love and being crazy for each other was much simpler than sewing the fabric of a durable relationship.

"Thank you," Hans said softly as Elsa nodded and let the shower curtain slip from her grasp. "Elsa?" He called quickly, watching her face reemerge as she pulled back the curtain again.

"Yeah?"

"I love you. I'm sorry I got mad." He flashed her his best apologetic smile, which was enough for Elsa to place her hand upon his soaking wet cheek and kiss him gently.

"I love you, too. And it's okay. We're a work in progress," she shrugged. "But I won't quit if you don't."

Hans shook his head vehemently, flicking the water droplets from the ends of his hair. "No quitting," he promised and kissed her one last time, fingers threading into her slightly damp hair. "Now go lay down so I can bring you breakfast in bed."

* * *

Fredagstaco (Friday Taco)

On Friday night, Hans found himself at Elsa's lengthy dining table, starving and salivating like a wolf over whatever wonderful smells were wafting in his direction from the kitchen. They'd been eating out a lot lately and even though money wasn't a huge issue between them, it was expensive to dine out in Oslo. Elsa wanted to prepare a home cooked meal for her kjæreste. Friday taco night provided the perfect opportunity to show off her cooking skills, as well as introduce Hans to taco night itself. While not every family in Norway had taco night, at least a third of the country did, and Elsa's family had been no exception.

The beaming blonde moved in and out of the kitchen with a graceful finesse, covering the table with plate after plate of Tex Mex cuisine until Hans could no longer see the espresso finish of the wood. At least that's what Hans had been told to expect, but it didn't resemble the Tex Mex he was accustomed to.

When Elsa set the platter of taco toppings down on the table, Hans couldn't hide his befuddlement as to what he was looking at. It was a beautiful arrangement of perfectly chopped selections he was familiar with. And then were some that just plain threw him for a loop.

He didn't say anything at first and let her spoon some meat and cheese into his shell. But when she added radish slices and pineapple, she couldn't ignore his dumbfounded face.

"What's the matter?" Elsa frowned, expecting a more thrilling response than the perplexed expression Hans was wearing.

"Nothing. Looks good," he chirped, and lied.

"No," Elsa corrected rather sternly, clearly perturbed by his unexpected reaction. "Your face is all scrunched up like that time I had you try pickled herring. You don't like tacos?"

"I love tacos," he grinned. "I'm just not so sure that's what we're having." That part hurt, but Elsa was sure he didn't mean it. Or did he?

Artic blue eyes darted back and forth between the spread on the table and the boyfriend she thought would have downed no less than three of her perfect tacos by now. "I'm confused," she sighed harshly, shaking her head.

"I've just never seen a taco with radishes, corn, or cucumbers before. And is that tofu?"

"You don't like my taco?" Dropping the half-filled shell on his plate and promptly moving back.

"No, I love your taco. _Really_." He tried to hide his laughter, but it only infuriated her more.

"Then why are you making a big deal out of it, and why are you laughing?" Stomping her foot rather childishly.

"First of all, you're making a sexual innuendo without realizing it." Elsa cocked her head to the side and responded as if Hans had spoken a language from another planet.

"You asked me if I liked your taco. Taco is something people in the States sometimes use to refer to a woman's lady parts."

It took all of her brainpower to make the connection as she blankly stared off to nowhere in particular and tried to figure out _which_ part.

"Your _taco_, honey," eyes salaciously flicking down between her legs, and then it clicked.

"Oh! _Ohhhhhhhh_. Really?"

Hans nodded sheepishly and chuckled at the adorable face Elsa was making, sculpted brows raised in the center and her nose bemusedly wriggled up. "It's not a term _I_ use. But that's why I was laughing, and I love your tacos. The ones on the table and... the other one as well."

He'd meant for that to be a compliment, but Elsa glazed right over it. "Ok, I get that radishes and stuff aren't what you have back home, but you don't have to make that face," poking a skinny finger so close to him that she could have beeped his nose.

"Hold on a second." Elsa waited with her hands on her hips, tapping her frustrated little foot as Hans fiddled around on his phone. Could they not have one meal together without such problems? Ever since the blizzard over a month ago, things had been hitting a rough patch, and they argued like this more often than they both thought was healthy. "This is what I'm used to seeing."

Hans held the phone up to Elsa and showed her a sad little taco wrapped in stiff white paper from Taco Bell.

"That doesn't even look good. This is what they serve there?"

"This is a fast food version, but this chain, Taco Bell, is extremely popular. And it actually tastes really good. Whether it's good for you is another question."

Elsa pulled her dejected face away from the phone and glanced back down at her own tacos, suddenly feeling like they weren't good enough, and she'd definitely lost her appetite. Her sapphire eyes remained glued to the bowl of chips and serving tray of sauces as tears blurred her vision. She wasn't one to cry over such a thing, and she wouldn't, but this had made her feel inadequate enough to think that she might.

"I'll make something else next time," she said quietly and wrapped her arms around herself as she returned to clean up the kitchen.

"Aren't we eating?" Hans asked, more confused than ever.

"Not now. Not after you made my tacos look ridiculous next to your _perfect_ American version."

Realizing what he'd unintentionally done, Hans dashed to where Elsa was loudly shoving dishes and cutlery into the sink.

"I only showed you that to give you an idea of why I was having that reaction. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"You know what?" Elsa snapped back. "I made this entire meal on my own. I've never been with someone who didn't do his fair share. So to complain in any way about what I made feels insulting. And I know you're probably not aware, but taco night is a big deal to some families here. And making it healthy or just being creative is encouraged. And you just made it feel like a mediocre attempt to copy American cuisine. I'm not just personally offended, I'm almost culturally offended, no, _ashamed_ for being myself around you. Ashamed and embarrassed to be Norwegian in Norway."

"You're _this_ mad about tacos?"

"It's not just tacos. It's lots of little times when you act like the way I do things or what I like, my culture, is the craziest, most alien thing ever. Why can't you be more open-minded?"

This wasn't about tacos. This was about him insulting her attempt to share her most cherished pastimes. And apparently he'd done it before and hadn't noticed. He didn't like everything about Norway. In fact, there was little that he did like, no matter how hard Elsa tried to sell him on it. It wasn't home; and, if he was being honest with himself, he'd had left a long time ago if it hadn't been for her. She was worth staying for. She was worth putting aside his ego for.

"Elsa, I'm sorry." Hans walked towards her and tried to coax those willowy arms from their protective position around her waist. "I'm a such a jerk, and I don't even realize it."

"Yes, you are! Sometimes," lowering her voice midway through as she corrected herself. This was a conversation that had been brewing for while. "Is it me or just what I like? I mean, would you like me better if I weren't Norwegian? If I were American?"

"What?!" Tossing his hands into to the air. "That is the craziest thing ever. Of course I love you the way you are. You _are_ Norwegian. You can't separate you from your culture," as if it was too painfully obvious. "Just please come and sit back down, and we'll talk. Over tacos, because I'm starving."

Elsa reluctantly nodded and followed him back to the table, refusing to unwind her arms from around her torso as she sat across from Hans and glared daggers at him.

"It's a hard adjustment, moving here," he started. "I've always felt alone, even around people. And being here, and knowing so few people or nothing about the culture, is that lonesome feeling times ten."

"You're not alone. You have me," she interjected from across the table, feeling much too far away from Hans.

"I do. And it's the only positive, the only thing I like about being here."

"The _only_ thing?"

"It's hard to find enjoyment during the times I'm not with you. I think it feels worse after I've been spending time with you because I'm even more alone. And this has to be the most unmanly conversation I've ever had." Hans rolled those handsome green eyes at himself as Elsa let one of her flutelike giggles tickle his ear.

"But I love it," batting her lengthy lashes up at him.

"You like that I'm being whiny and complaining?" Because he didn't.

"I like that you're being open with me," she replied with a gentle sympathy. "That's new for me. I'm usually the emotional one begging the other person to show me something real. Other guys, they didn't want to talk to me about feelings. They weren't romantic, at first. If ever. They didn't… do some of the things you do." For a minute there, her mind drifted off to all of the tender moments he'd shown her. The times he gave her little kisses and said how much he loved her. She could feel the shivers it gave her every time she'd lay on his chest and listen to his galloping heartbeat as he strummed his fingers down the length of her hair. Those moments were great, but things weren't as smooth as they could be, and she snapped back into the present. "When will you accept me? For who I am? For what I am? It's a package deal. Me and my culture."

"I'm not the best at learning curves. The language is hard to pick up, and I'm so afraid of offending anyone. It goes both ways, Elsa. We have to blend our styles. I have to be more accepting and open-minded, but you have to realize that I'm not going to become Norwegian overnight, if ever. It would be the same if you came to the States. And it's not just food or etiquette, it's our relationship as well."

Her eyes narrowed on him, picking up the underlying hint in his implicating tone. "Which part?"

He took in a breath and tried to watch how he phrased his thoughts. "It's not a cultural thing, I don't think, and we've been doing really well. That's why I haven't said anything."

"Hans, spit it out," putting an end to his floundering.

"The sex." The room got really heavy and charged in that second. Because now they were having a bona fide conversation about being a couple. And this was new territory for the both of them.

"Is it as bad as my tacos?" Unable to resist the dig she immediately regretted throwing out.

"No. Sex with you is amazing." He couldn't have been more serious, and he wanted to get that across to her. "But I want to make it something that will be more long-term and works for the both of us. So that we're not fighting for control like we have been. There's some kind of unspoken dialog going on sometimes, and I don't know what it is."

Elsa rolled her beautiful lips between her teeth, slightly unconformable about dissecting their sex life in such a way but silently agreeing that he was right.

"I like to be in control," Hans continued. "I like to take the lead. Not in a way where I would ever violate your trust or do something you didn't like, or God forbid, hurt you. That's not what I mean. I just want to show you how much I love you, and I don't know how to do that with me just laying there."

"Same with me," Elsa blurted a little too passionately. "I mean the second part. I only know what I know, taking control. And sometimes, I like it. I don't think it has to be all or nothing."

"We can work on it." A heartwarming genuineness glinted in his eyes. "As long as we both know. There's no right or wrong way to do this. We have to find _our_ way. In all of this. We can work as a couple if we don't let all of these differences get in the way."

Her lips were freed from the force of her teeth, and Elsa's arms slowly unwrapped themselves from around her waist as she set her hands in her lap. This, everything between them, was worth working on. She'd never find something this unique and special again.

"Okay," letting that warm smile that melted Hans' heart grace her lips. It made him smile even wider; and, then they were just grinning at each other, the fire of their conversation dying into dwindling embers of extinguished emotion, leaving behind the promise of a better evening to come.

"Can I please enjoy this delicious looking taco before it gets cold?" Pointing to the magazine-worthy creation still sitting in front of him.

"Yes."

Before he reached for the taco, Hans dropped his chin and looked right at Elsa across the way, beckoning her with a curl of his finger to come over and sit on his lap. She slid off the chair, still somewhat sulking, but blossomed back into happiness once she was on his lap and back in his arms.

"I get mad because I care about you. You know that, right?" She asked as he kissed her forehead and rubbed her back with a smooth hand. "I want you to like my food. I want you to like the things I show you." She took a breath. "I want us to work." The color of her lips deepened the more heartfelt her words became, and he needed to kiss them until she was smiling happily again.

"We will. Just remember that any time you feel hurt like this again, about differences, know that it's not because I don't love you. It's not because I don't want to be with you. And don't let it fester. You tell me the minute you notice something, and we'll work it out." He kissed her nose this time and she nuzzled it against his, exchanging little Eskimo kisses. "You didn't even let me tell you that these tacos not only look more delicious, but are probably way more healthy. And you made homemade guacamole. You made this dinner after a long day at work doing crazy computations and creating new synthetic materials for applications that'll probably change the world. And you did it all in heels, søta."

Elsa hummed a laugh and merrily kicked her feet under the chair like a child enjoying a huge push on the swing set. Not only to give Hans a glimpse of those sexy shoes he was speaking of, but also because he made her feel weightless and full of butterflies when he talked to her like that. Reminding her why she was so in love with him to begin with.

"I'm a crazy man to ever say anything negative. I would move here permanently and become a citizen if it was the only way I could be with you."

Elsa laid her skeptical gaze on his and threw him a killer smirk, the sexy one he loved. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Just eat the tacos, and we'll call it good."

"I would eat your tacos any day. These are delicious." Now it was Elsa giggling at the innuendo. "See? Hard not to laugh once you're in on the joke."

Elsa picked up the taco that had stirred this whole thing and lifted it to Hans' hungry lips. "Eat your… food," afraid to say taco one more time, "and then we'll go work on that other thing we talked about." Hans took one big crunchy bite as she tickled her lips around the shell of his ear, using that sultry tone that made him groan with anticipation. "In the bedroom," she clarified and took his earlobe between her lips.

"I'm done!" Hans declared and pushed them both back from the table.

"One more bite," she insisted and stuffed the taco back into his mouth. "You're gonna need your strength."

* * *

Brann (Fire)

Hans had only been home for an hour when he got the call. He and Elsa had made dinner together, and were snuggled up on the couch when a number from work flashed across his phone.

She worried when he answered, and his face pulled taut with concern. He'd never gotten a call from work after hours, so she could only assume the worst.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked gently when Hans came back in from the other room. He was a wreck, and the call had only been but a few minutes long.

"This morning, I sent a team out to rig off of Kristiansand. There was a fire. An explosion, actually. And they were all killed. All ten of them." There was no sign of the man she knew in his vacant eyes, as if Hans had witnessed the horror firsthand. The color drained from his face, even the always-present blush from the apples of his cheeks. It was like he had slipped away from reality, from her.

"Oh my god, Hans. I'm so sorry." Soft hands cradled Hans' ghostly face. She tried to return some sense of feeling, maybe to ground him back to Earth, and brushed her delicate thumbs over his sideburns. When that didn't work, she pulled him low to her, his head resting on her shoulder, and held him tight. Allowing herself to be his pillar of strength in the sudden blow of shock.

Elsa thought it was shock, but Hans was already tearing himself apart. Guilt and rage burned like a branding iron inside his chest, blaming only himself.

"I'm here resting comfortably while I've just ripped ten families apart. Forever." His voice was so faint she could barely hear him between the few staccatoed words he spoke. "I don't deserve what I have. I don't deserve you."

"Wait a minute," Elsa said and pushed him far enough from her to search those handsome green eyes for the last bit of rationality left in him. "What happened wasn't your fault. Fires break out on rigs all the time. There are storms and winds and all kinds of elements to contend with. There was a problem, and you sent a team in to fix it. You were just doing your job. I know you wouldn't have sent them if there was the slightest hint of danger."

He heard her, but it was like she was trying to talk over a windstorm. Not loud enough to silence the cruel thoughts already convincing him of his despicableness.

Before Elsa, he had been a regular in the New York club scene. He was a nice man at heart, but when he drank, even just a few shots, he became a vile person. It had been easy to get girls to fall for him, to want to sleep with him. But he always ended up treating them so badly as the night went on. He'd called women those names one should never, ever say to women. Just to keep them from getting close to him. He'd made them cry. Made them feel used. And he hadn't had one shred of remorse about it.

He thought about it, and it didn't matter how much he loved Elsa, or how good he'd been to her after changing his ways just to keep her. He would never change. Intentional or not, the accident reminded him of the destruction he caused in innocent people's lives.

"They were good men," he mumbled, eyes downcast and away from her.

"And so are you." She said it as if it were written in stone. If it was a mental battle he wanted, she was willing to fight for his dignity. Even if he'd already lost all hope for himself.

The arguments, the fighting, the aggression and frustration during sex. It all got brushed to the wayside the moment he needed someone to save him from himself. "Hans, I work with a lot of engineers. Went to school with them too. They build incredible things, but the one thing they can never account for or fully guard against is human error. We're imperfect beings. I am, and so are you. It was an accident. A tragedy but an accident."

Hans was quiet but listening more intently.

"You're a good man. Please believe me." Her slender fingers stroked the back of his head, love and devotion pouring out through the very tips.

"I don't deserve you."

"But maybe I deserve you," Elsa replied, turning his warped but understandable view around on himself. "If you can't see yourself as a good person, I know you see me as one. Bad things happen to good people too. I didn't deserve to be treated the way I was by some of the guys I ended up with. Who hurt me and made me feel worthless. That doesn't mean that I don't deserve to be loved the way you love me. And you deserve me, even if you can't see it."

He finally looked at her, green eyes slowly grasping onto the solace and restitution her soothing blue orbs held.

"I'm so sorry. About everything. If you think you don't deserve me, I may never be able to convince you otherwise by what I say. But I'll prove it to you by staying. I don't want anyone else. I don't want to be loved by anybody but you. All of our problems seem so senseless in light of this. Ten people lose their lives, and we're spending our time driving a wedge between ourselves. Over something that seems so insignificant now."

He could feel the coolness of her lips as she kissed him on the forehead, gently rocking him as she comforted what felt like both of them. One simple phone call was more than bad news. It was a wake up call.

He knew she was right. They'd let their petty differences start to devour what was otherwise a very good relationship. Reflection on all of that could come at another time. For now, Hans let his eyes shut as he thought about the members of his team that had perished. Whether he was a good person or not, he saw it as his responsibility.

Her thumb brushed over a single tear that had managed to escape down Hans' face, and she held him even tighter. Cocooning him in her warmth.

"It's okay. I'm here. We'll get through this."

* * *

Sommer (Summer)

Spring had finally ended, and the sun Hans had been dying to see finally showed itself in a spectacular Nordic fashion. Relationship-wise as well as the weather. Everything was fresh and new in the brilliant summer light, and he had a whole new appreciation for Oslo when it wasn't inflicting its miserable weather on him.

The beginning of summer also marked the end of Elsa's schooling, master's degree securely in hand now. It meant she had more time to spend with Hans after work, and they put all of their effort into their relationship and combed through their issues. Hans relented and started to embrace more of Elsa's cultural quirks. And she, in turn, took the risk and attempted to become a more understanding lover, helping them find that harmony they'd needed in and outside of the bedroom. Most importantly, each time they felt their scales tipping towards anger and could see another argument on the horizon, they asked themselves if it was worth losing everything over. And most of the time, they determined it wasn't.

July was the time when all of Norway went on holiday and got to enjoy all that life had to offer, and Hans jumped at the opportunity to spend every waking minute with Elsa and her family. Her father loved sailing, and so did he, instantly winning the elder man's approval.

It was gorgeous in Oslo one particular morning, just a speckling of clouds over the city. The kind of sun-filled day one had to run outside and enjoy simply because everyone knew it was sure to be the warmest day of the whole summer.

Hans and Elsa had gone out for breakfast and thought about heading out to her parents' house to go sailing, but instead they found themselves naked in his bed, bathed in the sunlight so many were out enjoying.

Hans was sitting with his legs loosely crossed, arms supporting himself from behind as Elsa worked her magic atop him. She was in control, but they could never really keep track anymore. Inhibitions about dominance and structure were blurring into a style all their own, where both were happy no matter the mood.

Elsa had put him in that position, and Hans willingly obliged. It was one of the few times he let her guide him and allowed himself to be vulnerable. She handled him with such care that he didn't feel uncomfortable handing over the reins. Because she wasn't dominating him, she was simply expressing her love for him. Everything was slow and gentle, soaking up every bit of pleasure and relishing the sensation of skin on fire-hot skin, warm breath and sultry kisses always on their lips.

Elsa's hips delicately rolled into Hans', her lightly tanned body arching and waving like a slow moving tide as Hans answered in reply with a subtle cant of his pelvis, eliciting a gasp from her whenever he did so.

Brands of the summer sun were etched on her alpine skin from hours of frolicking along the beach, triangular patterns and crisp golden lines marked where her bikini had been on a day Hans chased her down the sandy shoreline and scooped her up in his arms.

It was a lazy late morning, and they were absolutely in no hurry whatsoever. Hans was enjoying the display of Elsa's ridiculously toned body flexing and contracting for his viewing pleasure, her slender legs entangled behind his tailbone that made him feel like she'd never let him go, and he never wanted her to.

She brought her body closer, and he inhaled the sweet scent of her redolent skin as she placed her hands at the juncture of his jaw and neck on each side, pulling him towards her for a deeper taste of his lips.

The angle was perfection. Elsa was so light it was hardly any effort on either end to keep the rhythm going like the natural flow of a wandering stream. She controlled the speed, but it hit nice and deep for both of them.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses, and Hans never failed to reply.

A simple love in the morning light was more profound than either ever expected. Elsa just hadn't been able to stop staring at Hans all through breakfast, though he hadn't been doing anything particularly interesting. Maybe it had to do with how their persistence to work on things was paying off after weeks of figuring out how to survive the cultural and personal obstacles life threw at them

Everything was slowly falling into place, one hard-earned piece at a time. The home screen on Hans' phone was of them, a picture of him and Elsa up at the Holmekollen zipline. Strapped into harnesses with the skyline of a green widespread Oslo in the background, the view almost as breathtaking as the happiness shining on the couple's faces.

Elsa had a classy black and white of them holding hands on her phone, and it was like they were imbedded in each other's worlds. In some ways, they were like one person. They could tell what the other person was thinking, able to read their emotions like a book. Interests and ideas were merging, more reflecting of them as a whole rather than as fragments of individuality. Even during sex, they could tend to each other's needs before even having to say what they wanted. A type of mental synchronization they'd been honing over the spring and summer.

Elsa let her hands slide down Hans' sweaty body, one falling to his knee and the other wrapping itself around the back of his head to lean it towards her breast.

Hans passionately kissed the blushing nub before capturing it with his mouth entirely, his groan muffling against the stiffening skin. Elsa canted a bit harder, excitation striking like lightning from where Hans was teasing her with his exquisite tongue all the way down to where he was buried inside her. She let out high moan, full of ecstasy and an urge to climb that mountain a little faster.

Hans circled his tongue and suckled her as if she were made purely of deathly sweet honey before she couldn't take anymore and had to push him away in order to ride him faster.

His chest broadened with every breath he took, and Elsa just had to run her hands over the lines of his pecs. She relished these times together. Where love was more than just a word they said to each other, it was a euphoric state of being.

Reaching their peak wasn't as important as what was really happening. Both could feel their hearts growing, burning and swelling as they filled with inexplicable joy.

A born reaction that brought two unlikely people together and connected them in a way they never could have predicted. The bond they created was strong, fibers of love intertwining to merge two lives into one as efficiently as possible.

"Elsa... I love you, kjæreste."

* * *

Summer bliss continued with Elsa's taste of Oslo and its surplus of summer activities. She took Hans to an outdoor concert down by the water and bopped around with the young crowd in her tiny little shorts. They were a little revealing, but Hans had learned that short shorts were something most girls wore around the city during that time of year. It only bothered him whenever Elsa bent over a little too far and flashed those half-moon cheeks for all the world to see. But he obediently reminded himself that she was his, and Elsa was allowed some fun with flirty fashion. That and he knew that she was terribly independent, and if he ever dared to tell her what she could or couldn't wear, it would be the fight to end all fights. And things had been going so swimmingly lately that he wasn't going to rock the boat. So when she came back with two overflowing beers from the concession stand in those white mini shorts, he smiled, happily took his beer, and gave her smack on her rear before they delved back into the crowd for more music.

July had definitely been the turning point in their relationship. With no work for either of them, they spent days together without a care in the world. So many nights at each other's apartments meant that their belongings were also staying behind. Hans kept a razor and some extra clothes at Elsa's, and she had her own place for her make up at his.

Hans loved being able to smell her perfume when she wasn't around. It was a good way to start off any morning.

When September rolled around, it was time to celebrate Hans' birthday. He had no idea what the local customs were for such an occasion and was surprised when Elsa hadn't said a word about going out or doing anything, but he didn't push it.

That evening when he arrived at Elsa's apartment right after work, he opened the door to find a least a dozen red candles flickering in the living room. They smelled delicious and could only have been the handiwork of one incredible woman.

The sound of heels echoing off the hardwood floor drew Hans' eyes to where Elsa emerged from the bedroom in thigh-high fishnet stockings and a corseted black lingerie set. Hans dropped his belongings, and jaw, on the floor and stared at her in elated shock. She'd never worn anything like that in her life, not just for Hans. But it was what she wanted to give him, and she knew it would feel right after such an incredible summer.

"Oh my god," was the only thing Hans managed to say, antsy fingers twitching with fervent need.

"Happy birthday." Elsa struck a pose halfway between the living room and where Hans was by the front door, waiting for him to come to her and that sumptuous body laced into perfection.

Hans eventually got his legs to work and strode over to his woman, her fair hair shimmering down her back in loose curls and extra makeup looking very sexy in the evening light.

"What's this?" Hans questioned with a grin and dragged his fingers down the front of the bindingly tight corset. The bra part was solid silk and the rest was sheer, and it felt like heaven as it slid beneath his hands.

"It's your present," arching her voluptuous chest up to him.

"You're my present?"

"I want you to do what you want with me." Her mouth was so close to his that they touched when she spoke, crimson temptingly brushing over his smooth trembling lips.

"Within reason." He stated matter-of-factly, but Elsa shook her head. She wanted to submit herself fully to him, with no exceptions. That was the real gift. Not the stilettos or her rear looking so gorgeously pert or the corset that pushed her cleavage together so exceptionally well that Hans thought his head might burst along with her chest.

"Elsa, that's not what I want." She scrunched her beautiful eyebrows in confusion and blinked. "Once upon a time maybe, but not now. What would make me most happy is if you did what you want with me. Show me what you've got in those deep dark recesses of that brilliant mind."

"It's not that deep or that dark," a hint of shyness tingeing her cheeks with pink as she brushed her hands over his shoulders. "Although I did buy a few things for the occasion," hinting at the toys she'd ordered online because she'd become too flustered trying to get herself to walk into Flirt over by the Oslo Spectrum to buy something in person.

"Then we'll take turns. We do it your way, and then do it mine, respectfully," Hans suggested. A night of new sexual frontiers didn't mean they couldn't lay some ground rules before hand.

"Okay." They kissed deeply, smearing her perfect lipstick from the intensity before Hans broke away.

"Do we have any whipped cream?" He asked, getting a gasp from Elsa.

"What?"

"I'm kidding," he laughed and kissed her lightly. "I just wanted to hear the giggle."

She silenced his laugh with a swipe of her tongue before stopping to pull him along by his tie. "Come with me then."

Hans didn't get cake or candles for his birthday that year. But he got something much better that he'd always remember.

* * *

Vintner (Winter)

The warmth of summer had faded completely into the crispness of fall. A peppering of gold leaves covered the streets as the trees succumbed to the call of the impending winter. Everyone went back to work, and life went on at a steady pace. Work, weekend. Work, weekend. Such was the pattern until it was so cold that Hans could smell the threat of snow in the air, which meant only one thing: Christmas.

However deep their love had grown in the nine months they'd known each other, it was about to quadruple over the holidays. Frosty days meant warm nights at home with dozen of those yummy candles Elsa loved, snuggled up to her and the adorable knitted socks she broke out sometime back in October.

They baked their way through the seven cookies of Christmas, almost burning some of the krumkake because playfully teasing each other with the whipped cream filling turned into steamy kitchen sex before they knew it.

Elsa gave Hans a thorough lesson in Jul, and he was more than prepared for what lie ahead as they headed out to her parents' house for the festivities. Mountains of food and hours of Norwegian-dubbed movies filled most of the day.

Hans gave Elsa a beautiful silver locket, and she bought him that leather jacket he'd had his eye on at one of the stores in Frogner.

Her parents loved Hans and could tell that what they had was genuine. They treated him as one of their own, and he finally got to experience what it was like to be a part of a loving family, especially during the holidays.

The spirit of the season had the two bursting at the seams with happiness. When Elsa's parents finally retired to bed, she raced Hans upstairs to her room for that much-awaited alone time they'd been craving all day.

They'd been dressed so nicely, and the holiday had been nothing but nonstop joy. But that evening culminated in the most profound lovemaking they'd had to date.

How two people from different worlds, an ocean away, could come together like this was unbelievable to them. The serendipity of being on the same tram at the same time was too cosmic to ignore. It was hard at times, smoothing out their differences like a stubborn shirt that refused to relent to the burning heat of an iron. But they saw the hard times through and, as two intelligent people did, they worked through the worst of it. They read about, discovered, and invented solutions to their unique challenges, both cultural and personal.

Despite the flaws each carried into the relationship, they would never trade the closeness or the warmth they felt with each other.

Elsa was as independent as they came. A classic, strong, Nordic woman that didn't rely on anyone. Sometimes she was a little too headstrong and would be the first to admit that she was stubborn. But she never knew how much she could savor the security that she felt in Hans' embrace. Those robust arms could shelter her from the world and all of its problems, and she never knew she wanted that from a man. She didn't rely on Hans. He not only enhanced all of the good things in her life but ushered in new and unexpected joys as well.

Just like Elsa didn't know she could be so enraptured by Hans' nurturing, he didn't know he could ever care for someone so intimately or even know that he was capable of such a feat. It came naturally to him around Elsa. They learned to submit to each other because giving into what scared them actually bonded them together in the end.

It wasn't perfect, and maybe it never would be, but that wasn't the goal. The struggles decreased with each passing week, but the remaining edges of their personalities that were still rough kept them interesting to each other. It was the spunk and the spitfire that lit the relationship up when things became too vanilla. Contrary to Elsa's skin tone, vanilla wasn't something she could be completely comfortable with in totality.

Simple pleasures became more treasured and valuable than anything money could buy. Snuggles on the couch while the news played in the background was their new drug. Warm feet wrapped in knitted socks rubbed together like they were trying to kindle a fire at the slowest pace possible. Elsa's mom knitted Hans a pair for Jul, and she'd put just as a much love and care into her work as she would have for a family member. Because her daughter loved him and, while that was reason enough to like Hans, she'd seen the way her daughter had stars in her eyes and came to life when he was around her. American or not, she didn't care. Love knew no language.

After Jul, it was off to her parents' cabin up in the woods, alone this time with no one around for miles. The cabin was glorious but didn't have electricity or hot water. Hans was blown away by Elsa's ability to cook without a stove and wash her hair in water she'd heated over an open flame. And she looked glamorous the entire time her outdoorsy side came to life. The woman could rock a tight dress and heels, but she could chop wood and build a fire with no help at all.

All that work left her with little energy, so Hans took it upon himself to do all the work at night. No neighbors meant no one could hear their erotic screams at night as Hans brought Elsa to climax after climax. Something about being alone in the great outdoors really seemed to turn him on.

The week wrapped up with a trip to the ski slopes and more lovemaking back at the lodge. All in all, it had been the best week of his life. They were more in love than ever, and it went from wondering if the relationship was going to work out to wondering when Hans would ask Elsa to move in with him.

It was back to work again, and the city grew even colder. Ice coated the streets, and Hans felt like he was in a deep freeze every time he stepped outside. That little button nose running against his was all he needed to warm though. Elsa was a glutton for Eskimo kisses. Life returned to the same old humdrum routine, but there was never a dull moment whenever they were together.

Then, as they were returning to Hans' home after going out for coffee one morning, Elsa had some news that would change the course of everything.

"I have a surprise to tell you. A happy one," Elsa beamed as she loosened the thick knitted scarf from around her neck and swallowed hard with excitement, smiling through what little nerves she had swirling about her stomach.

"A surprise?" Hans trilled. She always had the best surprises. "What is it?" Lost in her sparkling glacier eyes, Hans brought his hands around her waist and met her glowing smile with one of his own, amazed by how much joy they were having on a simple Sunday.

She sank into his embrace, holding her breath as long as she could until the pounding of her heart forced her to finally tell him the big news. "I'm pregnant."

* * *

_I'm so cruel to leave it on a cliffhanger like that but this thing was already at 9,000 words. Next chapter is the last chapter! Any guesses to how Hans may react?_


	15. On the Trikk: Part IV

"I have a surprise to tell you. A happy one." Elsa loosened the thick knitted scarf from around her neck and swallowed hard with excitement, smiling through what few nerves she had.

"A surprise? What is it?" Lost in her eyes, Hans brought his hands around her waist and met her smile with one of his own, amazed by how much joy they were having on a simple Sunday.

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" Hans' face pulled tighter than a ripcord as he shook his head and absorbed the blast. Elsa stuttered but managed to repeat herself without losing that sparkle of a smile.

"Hans, I'm pregnant." He still looked glazed over with confusion, so she moved one of his hands and placed it over her lower stomach to drive the point home. "I'm carrying our baby."

As if she had burned him, he recoiled his hand so fast that it scared Elsa, and she jumped back a little. "How is this possible? You're on the pill."

"I was, but when I thought back on it, I think I may have missed a day and even taken it late on a few occasions last month," she shyly admitted as Hans grew more frantic.

"_Missed_ a day?" He hissed. Now using a tone one would admonish a child with.

"It was the holidays. We went skiing and went to a few parties. We drank a lot. And then there were the three days we were snowed in and... drank some more. And I don't think I need to point out that we had a lot of sex over vacation."

Hans' eyes darted back and forth as his mind scanned over the blur of the holidays. "That was a while ago. When did you find out?"

By now, Elsa was almost curling in on herself, thinking the sliver of elation she had expected from him was never going to come, "Just a few days ago. I missed my period, and when it didn't come for another week, I took a test. It was positive, and I didn't want to tell you before I went to the doctor to confirm it. I'm seven weeks."

_This isn't happening, _was all Hans could think. Elsa searched his eyes with a haze of hopelessness drowning her own, that brilliant smile that had lit up her face when she first told him replaced with a contrite pout.

"Why don't you look happy?" She asked timidly.

"How can I be happy?" Hans snapped back loudly. "This is all wrong." He ignored how his words seemed to slap her in the face, blow after blow as he demolished any joy the moment may have held or could have fostered, her mouth agape and wide blue eyes becoming watery with a disappointment that struck her to her core. "We're not married. We haven't even been together for a year."

"That does _not_ matter here," she countered heatedly and took a confident step forward. "None of my friends who have kids are married. It's different."

"No!" His booming voice making her jump. "In my family, you date a girl. And then, when you're _both_ ready, you get married and start a family. And that normally doesn't happen so early. You're twenty-four, Elsa."

Ruby lips pulled tight as Elsa brazened herself against this new type of rage she'd never witnessed before from Hans. "I know how old I am. And you're making this a bigger deal than it really is. It's not what I planned, no. But I love you, and this is happening. And I'm embracing it. I have medical coverage; that's not an issue. I have a job and paid maternity leave. Both of our parents have money. We have huge apartments. What is the problem?"

"I'm not ready!" The volume of his voice paralyzed her. "I was thinking about going home soon, and I was going to ask you to come with me. Now I don't have a choice. You took it from me."

"I took..." tearing up at the accusation, "...you were a part of this too. I wouldn't have come with you to New York anyways. This is home to me," jamming a pointed finger towards the ground. She could feel her anger burning up her cheeks, but instead of firing back even stronger like she normally did, she could feel herself breaking instead. "I thought you would be happy, at least a little," wiping a lone tear with the heel of her palm and sniffling. "I'm surprised, but I don't have any regrets. Every time we were together, I opened my heart to you. The way I felt with you, those beautiful moments are captured in one tiny person. This baby was conceived in love. How can that be wrong?"

The fact that Elsa was weeping and about to crumple to the floor didn't even stop Hans. "Just because I'm not from here doesn't mean my feelings, my views, my beliefs, or the way I want to live my life, is wrong."

"But...we could be a family." She was pleading with him for some sort of sign of the man she knew that lay under this brash exterior she was now faced with.

"How can you be a family when you're broken from the start, Elsa?"

She couldn't hold back the pain any longer. Everything that came out of his mouth was a stab wound to the chest. The belief of what this could have been and who Hans was faded before her as her tears broke free.

"Føkk deg," she whispered, voice too compromised by heartbreak, and flew out the door towards the street with Hans unable to keep up.

"Wait, what me?"

After Elsa stormed out, he used his translation app to figure out what she'd said.

"Fuck you," he mumbled at his phone. She'd actually said 'fuck you' to him. A foul word had never left her lips, and he was the first to instigate it.

* * *

Sorg (Heartbreak)

Hans spent a good week being mad and sulking in the misery of his lonely apartment. He kept thinking back on the holidays and how utterly deceived he felt by Elsa's carelessness. He'd been the one to pour the drinks most of those nights, but he couldn't understand how this all could have happened. It was an honest mistake, and Elsa hadn't meant for their relationship to take this turn. But Hans was too blind to see that through his immediate anger.

Hans kept finding himself on the Scandinavian Air's website staring at the ticket choices to JFK. Not that he wanted to move home and leave Elsa; he just needed to get out of Norway for a week or so. Only problem was that his boss wouldn't give him the time off to do so. One of the downsides to having his older brother as his superior.

Hans had plenty of vacation time, but Lars had figured out pretty quickly that something major had happened between him and Elsa. And after almost a year of being together, he wasn't going to let Hans run out on her, even for a week. New York was a dangerous temptation for his younger brother, so he saw to it to keep Hans as far away from places where he'd make stupid decisions. That and it was time to be the grown up he'd transformed into for Elsa and face the hardships that came along with real relationships like a man.

"So she's having a baby. _Your _baby. Step up to the plate, and do the right thing," Lars scolded once he finally found out what Hans had been hiding from him. "You said you'd do anything for her. That means being there for her and not running off to go fuck some girl in some disgusting club in the meatpacking district back home."

"That's not what I plan to do," Hans bemoaned coarsely and threw his brother perturbed look.

"Are you breaking up with her?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?" Gesturing to the slew of magazines and empty plates scattered around the couch where Hans had taken up refuge in his apartment.

"I need time to think about this. And I'm a little pissed off she couldn't remember to take her pills."

"You're putting all the responsibility on her. Women here are all on the pill because the guys are too shy to use condoms. You're not shy, but you don't have to remember to take those pills. And you know how she drinks. It's the same as the other girls. Way too much all at once."

Hans didn't respond, but he wasn't kicking Lars out, so that was actually a good sign.

"And while you take your time to think, her body is going to go through this huge change."

"A few weeks aren't going to bring that much change." He was such a child sometimes.

"Don't you see the women in the office? They get sick all day, they're tired, they can't eat; nothing sounds good. But they have boyfriends and husbands to help them. You're leaving her when she needs you the most. And I don't know if you heard, but I said boyfriends. I've been to only two weddings here, and both times, the couple's own kids were in the wedding. Go after her. Before you lose her _and_ your baby."

To clear his mind, Hans took a walk in Vigeland Park not too far from his flat. It was famous for its sculptures, but every time he and Elsa had been there, he'd been too wrapped up in her to pay any attention to the art.

As he pulled his hood over his bright red ears to fend off the cold, he noticed an almost ironic theme to the sculptures. One was of a woman and her infant. Another was of a joyful father giving a piggyback ride to his son as they ran with carefree joy. A family huddled together as they basked in the celebration of the tiny new life in the mother's arms. Families.

As hard as his relationship had been with Elsa, he really had loved every minute of it. Feeling how deep love could take him and how the thrill of opening his heart to someone could be so terrifying and infinitely rewarding. And he wasn't willing to let it end just yet.

Weeks went by, and Elsa still refused to answer her phone, a sign of just how deeply he'd hurt her with his impulsive reaction. Hans didn't want to make a spectacle, so he didn't go by her work. That would have been out of line. He was even afraid to go by her flat but gave into temptation after another two weeks of Elsa's voice mail. She refused to buzz him up, no matter how many times he tried, and no one came by the front door to follow into the building.

Eventually, Hans got to the point where he didn't know how many weeks had passed since he'd last seen Elsa, but he knew things couldn't go on like they had been or he was going to lose her forever. He was even starting to look as awful on the outside as he felt on the inside. Overgrown stubble. Baggy eyes. Limp pathetic hair. Hollow face. He looked warmed over death and felt like it too.

He shuffled to the kitchen, with his robe haphazardly thrown over his body, and looked at the calendar on the wall. It was March just over a year since he'd met Elsa and been swept into a whirlwind of love. His heart felt like it might crawl to a stop when he saw the Holmenkollen Ski Fest and Competition written in the little box for the that weekend.

The Holmenkollen FIS World Cup Nordic was a huge skiing event for which Elsa had pumped him up. Three days of fun, parties, and competitions was supposed to have been her chance to introduce Hans to Norway's beloved ski jumping in all its glory. Some friends of her family lived just down the hill and had a huge party they'd planned on attending. She'd even bought Hans a little Norwegian flag to match her patriotic beanie and wave at the competition, with the understanding that he didn't have to if he didn't want to.

Hans was so depressed now that he would have dressed in all red and white just to make her happy. Waved thirty Norwegian flags and cheered at the top of his lungs if it meant a chance to see her smile. To hold her and smell her bewitching scent again, just to have her as his again.

Then he thought how silly it was to be thinking about something as frivolous as a ski competition when he was missing out on more important things. Doctor visits, ultrasounds, baby shopping. Not only that but watching Elsa take on the beautiful body of a pregnant woman.

Forget the smile on her face as Norway sailed into first place on the ski jump. There was the world's greatest smile waiting to be seen the moment she held their baby for the first time. Kindergarten. Hearing his child call him 'daddy' for the first time. Lullabies. Ski school. Seeing Elsa treat his child better than either of his parents had ever treated him, with a special kind of love and warmth only she could provide. What the hell was he doing in his kitchen as this all slipped through his fingers? He was missing it. Every day, they were growing further and further apart.

He figured Elsa was probably up at her friend's house in Holmenkollen, enjoying the festivities, and he didn't know whether or not they knew what was going on, but it wasn't the place for such a reunion. She'd be home on Sunday, and he didn't care how long he had to wait, or how crazy it made him look. He was going to stand outside of her apartment until he saw her or found a way in.

Despite what Hans may have thought, Elsa never made it up to Holmenkollen and went to her parents' home instead. They were also hosting a viewing party, and the house was brimming full with guests cheering on the jumpers and skiers. Her parents didn't know the exact details of what was going on, but they knew something wasn't right. Elsa had said she wasn't feeling well, blaming it on morning sickness, but her broken eyes told a different story. She didn't go to the competitions. She didn't visit with any of the guests at the party. Instead of sipping on sparkling water and gushing about Norway's performance on the slopes, she curled up on the bed in her old room thinking about Hans.

The last time she'd been home, it had been for Jul. She and Hans had spent the night, since the presents, food, and marathon of movies didn't end until after eleven, and they'd had plenty of celebratory drink that evening.

They'd grinned at each other as soon as Elsa shut the door to her room, pushing Hans back onto the bed as she crawled on top of him and kissed him with all the love in her heart. He'd unzipped the gorgeous red dress she'd worn to church that afternoon and let his hands drink up every milky white curve of her supple body.

The balance had been perfect; no one felt over-controlled. Snow was dancing outside of the window as Hans rolled Elsa onto her back, the way she now adored because he made her feel so safe and special. They'd made love in the shadows of the moonlight. And when Elsa caught a glimpse of the clock and saw it was well past midnight, she wished Hans a Merry Christmas, and he'd wished her a Gød Jul. A joyous time of year had coincided with what felt like the peak of their relationship.

Tears rolled over the bridge of Elsa's nose, bleeding out onto the soft violet sheets of the bed as she lay in the spot where they'd spent one of the most cherished nights of their relationship. It might have even been the exact place where they conceived their child.

She missed him terribly but was still so damaged by what he had said. With each day that passed, she convinced herself that she was going to be carrying and raising their baby by herself. That hurt almost as much as the thought of never being together with Hans again, like they used be.

Her hand touched the pillow next to her where Hans' head had been that fateful night. She closed her eyes and could almost feel him, almost hear him breathing. Maybe if she wished hard enough, he would be there when she opened them. But she knew that wouldn't happen, so she dared not open them at all. The party went on, but Elsa stayed in that room, refusing to leave the memory of Hans and what might have been.

* * *

Reclaiming Fremtiden (Reclaiming the Future)

It was supposed to be spring. Back in NYC, it may not have been much warmer than Oslo, but the sun was probably out. Oslo had thawed out from the bitter winter and was just now approaching what Hans knew as a regular New York winter. It was still freezing and the sky remained gray, threatening to maybe even rain. But there, at the main door of Elsa's building, Hans sipped on the piping hot coffee clutched in his heavily gloved hands and waited for Elsa.

It had been three hours, and Hans was starting to doubt this was ever going to happen. It was way too cold to keep waiting like he had been, as the sun was going down and the main door was proving to be a bust. The only other option was the parking entrance, and he went to the back of the building and spent another half hour before someone finally pulled out, and he made his way to the elevator.

The warmth of the building rushed over his flushed face like the breath of an angel, livening him up enough so that he felt like his teeth would stop chattering by the time he reached Elsa's flat. The massive apology and speech he was about to deliver would sound much better if he didn't stumble and stutter his way through it. He had to be gallant, humble. Well-spoken, but not pompous.

He took a deep breath once he reached her front door and felt his heart pounding in his ears after he finally knocked.

And there she was. Just the smallest view of the saddest cerulean eyes framed by tapered platinum bangs.

"Hi," Hans began, patiently waiting for Elsa to open the door wider than the two-inch crack she was cautiously peering out of.

"I don't think it's a good idea that we talk." Her anger spoke first, dismissing the obvious that they had something between them they couldn't exactly avoid talking about forever.

Hans quickly placed his hand against the door, afraid she'd shut it on him. "Elsa, you're pregnant with my baby. We _have_ to talk eventually."

He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes and slam the door but couldn't deny the fact that he was right. After a moment, she stepped aside and let him in, crossing her arms over herself the minute he entered.

Hans was silent at first, just letting his eyes re-familiarize himself with the beautiful woman he hadn't seen in six whole weeks. She looked absolutely stunning. Hair down with lots of volume. A simple white button up shirt and a pair of dark skinnies with riding boots.

And she was _showing_.

Elsa was so thin that Hans had to strain to see it, but her shirt was see-through enough that he could make out the small curve of her lower belly. The waist extender attached to the top of her pants confirmed she was growing. Too big to button her pants, but not yet big enough for maternity clothes. And he wanted to punch himself because she looked more beautiful with the blossoming bump than any time before. Proof that their love had created life was right before his eyes, carried by a woman he had broken with his coldness and immaturity.

"You're showing," motioning with his eyes to her abdomen. She didn't uncross her arms and didn't respond either. "How far along are you?"

It looked as though speaking was so painful for her, he didn't even know if they'd be able to have a conversation.

"Thirteen weeks."

A print out of a black and white ultrasound photo was on the fridge, and he suddenly felt like he'd been gone for way longer than a month and a half. The melancholic tenseness in the room was palpable, thick and heavy with regret.

"You had an ultrasound?"

Elsa nodded her head, curling her lips under to abate her emotions and the sense of loneliness she'd been drowning in since their fight.

"Elsa, honey. I am _so_ sorry. I don't know if I'm even capable of the apology I owe you. That I owe our baby. I was scared. You being pregnant was the last thing I expected you to say that day. I spoke out of fear, and I said terrible, _terrible_ things that I wish I could take back, more than anything." Her throat bobbed, but she held it together. "You won't talk to me, and I miss you so much I can't stand it. It's like something in me has died. Something you brought to life that's extinguished. Knowing that you're growing our baby, and I'm not a part of it. I can't take care of you. It _kills_ me. Everyday I die a little more." Being back in her apartment, faced with the consequences of his actions, was almost more than he could take. "I talked to my brother and some friends at work. Not only were you right about the marriage thing, but it shouldn't have mattered anyways. People in the States don't get married all the time and have kids at all ages," pathetically shrugging his shoulders. "I'm sorry, søta. Please forgive me. I want to be a family. I want be with you. Even if we didn't get pregnant, I would have never left you. You're the only one I want. And even though I said all of those nasty things, I would have never abandoned you and our baby."

Elsa was crying now but very quietly, just letting her tears flow, hot and stinging like they'd been pulled straight from her heart. Never speaking.

Hans took off his scarf and removed his coat, setting them on her side table as he walked towards her. His hands came to sweetly cradle her tear-stained face, and he brushed away those wet trails as she melted into his touch, unable to resist because somewhere under all of her anger, she was still crazy about him.

"Kjæreste, please," Hans whispered with an intense longing that made her weak. Her lips frowned even harder when she felt his hand slip under her shirt and press smoothly against her belly. "Let me make this right. I don't deserve it, but I _want_ to be a family. I don't ever want to lose you."

Blue eyes caught green as Elsa looked at Hans, _really_ looked at him, for the first time since he'd entered her apartment, hiccupping a sob before she spoke.

"You hurt me. What you said."

"I was an idiot. It's _you_ who's the brilliant one, remember? I kept thinking about what you said, about how our baby was conceived in love. My parents have thirteen children, and I'm convinced they hate each other. I don't know which time it was. The times at the ski lodge. Your parents' house for Jul. Or when we stayed in bed for two days straight when it snowed. In the kitchen trying to make krumkake-"

"Hans," she chided.

"Sorry," realizing he'd gone off track. They really hadn't been able to keep their hands off of each other, and the holidays only heightened that. "All of those times, and every time before, I opened my heart to you as well. You don't know this, but I used to be an asshole. A _real_ asshole. Used girls and moved on fast because I wasn't interested in love. I didn't believe in it. Then I saw this angel on the tram. And that heavenly woman, who I love more than anything, is having my baby. How lucky am I? How lucky am I that my child will be blessed with a wonderful mother? Full of love and just waiting to shower him or her with it. How lucky am I that my child will be gorgeous because its mother, a Nordic goddess?"

Thank god, Elsa laughed that time. That smile made him light up like a flower under the sun's every giving? rays.

"I don't want to do this alone," she whimpered and cried a little more.

"You won't. I'm here, snuppa (sweetie)," Kissing her in on the nose. "And I'll only leave if you tell me to. Maybe not even then," he chuckled and kissed her forehead, ridding it of those anguished lines of stress. "Elsa, I want to be at _every_ appointment. Buy you a stroller and everything else you want for our baby. And make you dinner and massage every ache and pain. I want to hold your hand when you bring our child into this world."

"I want that too," radiant smile gleaming up at him.

"Really?"

"Yes, you fool," patting him playfully on the side of his arm. "I love you. Our baby loves you." She chuckled wetly, and then her face pinched in seriousness, like she was trying to say something but it hurt too much to say it.

"I...I'm sorry. I should've have been more careful," Elsa cried, seeming like she might lose it. "I should have paid closer attention to the pills when we were on holiday-"

"No, no, no," Hans hushed lovingly and held a finger up to her trembling lips. "Under any other circumstances, I would let you apologize. I'd probably want to hear that apology, but I'm not going to let you apologize for this. This was meant to happen. Do you know how I know?" Elsa shook her head as Hans wiped away more tears. "This job at my father's office was something I got in a poker game. My brother and I were playing to see who got to stay in New York. I lost, obviously, and had to come here. On the day I met you, I missed two trams in a row because I couldn't tell if they were the right ones. Third time really is the charm because I got on that third one and saw you." Hans was about to tear up now but was gladdened by the small smile gracing Elsa's pretty red lips. "I've never been proud of anything I've done in my life. I've never worked hard at anything. Never wanted to change my ways. But you got me to change. I've never been happier than when we were together. I was proud of us. I worked hard for our relationship, until I blew it."

Elsa smiled wider and shook her head, growing happier by the minute. "You didn't blow it. Fractured it maybe but didn't blow it. And it's different now. You're not just my boyfriend. This isn't some frivolous relationship. You're the father of my child. And we're about to become parents in six short months."

He'd always wanted Elsa, from the moment he saw her. And now he was forever bound to her, as something he never could have imagined himself as. A daddy.

"Can I?" Laying his hands over the already opened button of her pants. Most of the swell was right at her waistline, and he wanted to get as close to the baby as he could. He removed the waist expander and let Elsa take the initiative to unzip them and hold up her shirt for him to get closer.

His hands explored the beautiful bump, but he didn't have a clue where anything was. She giggled at his attempts to figure things out and finally helped him.

"Here," she said and placed his hand just above her pubic bone. "Everything is still really tiny. Uterus is about this big," using his finger to draw a small ellipse across her skin. "And the baby is only the size of a lime. Right about here." She brought his finger to the center of the area she'd drawn, right where the baby was.

Without hesitation, Hans put a hand on each of Elsa's slender hips and brought her to him, kissing the area where his baby was rapidly growing not too far below.

"I love you. I love you both. I was wrong. _This_ is home," pressing his forehead against her belly. "This where I'm most happy. You're my happiness."

Elsa grabbed his arms and encouraged him to stand so that she could wrap herself around him, nuzzling his chest. Hans squeezed her tight, but not _too_ tight, and let their silent embrace repair what had been ruptured between them.

After about five solid minutes of hugging and crying, it was time for kissing. Hans was gentle and timid at first, taking his time to ease them back into a comfortable place more like the one where they'd left off. Lips, tongues, and mouths reunited and had a celebration of their own. And it was like Elsa was never going to stop. She was breathing deeply and moaning lightly after a while. Hans hadn't even let himself be cocky enough to hope for make up sex, but it looked like that's where she was trying to steer things..

"Want to go to the bedroom?" She breathed into his mouth, kissing him so deeply that Hans couldn't answer until they both came up for air.

"So soon? I just got here like half an hour ago. You're ready already?"

"Yes. But also, it's the hormones. It's why I cried so much. And now I'm..." Rubbing herself up against his hips.

"Horny?"

"Exactly," grin sweeping across her glowing face. "You said you'd be here for me. I have needs. And I missed you. So much that it still hurts because I can't believe you're really here."

"I'm here. I'm _really_ here. And this is okay?" Laying a hand back over her stomach. "I'm not going to hurt you or the baby?"

She refused to keep her lips off of his and snuck in words in between kisses. "It's fine. I asked."

"Who were you planning on having sex with?"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I asked when I first found out. So you," she sassed and sweetly kissed his cheek.

"Come here. We may not be married, but I will still spoil you by carrying you bridal style." Hans scooped Elsa up into his arms, her face beaming with joy as she encircled her arms around his neck. "To the bedroom, my naughty little Viking."

* * *

Two Months Later

Late afternoon shadows crept across the hardwood floors of Elsa's apartment, stretching over the newly expecting parents curled up on the couch. It was Saturday, which meant Lördagsgodis for Elsa. Candy day. She hardly indulged in it since she wasn't a kid, but Hans had taken it upon himself to occasionally spoil her with a mixed bag of candy from the store. It was something he wanted to do for their child someday, and there was no better time like the present to make it a habit. Especially with a girlfriend who had the biggest sweet tooth since she became pregnant.

A raspberry-shaped piece of tutti frutti tickled the delicate line of Elsa's bottom lip as Hans fed it to her, slowly pulling it back every time she made a gentle attempt to capture the treat between her teeth. Her tongue touched the tip of his thumb, hot and seductive with her eyes giving off that flicker of innocence mixed with naughtiness. Another swipe at his thumb, that time up to the knuckle, and he gladly popped the gummy into her mouth. He was rewarded with a satisfying smile and a pleasant hum from between her lips.

"Not too much. It's not good for baby," Hans teased and held the bag further away from Elsa, still relishing the pout it invoked from his sweet søta.

"Then why did you get such a big bag?"

"I got carried away at the store. You know I love spoiling you." The taste of vibrant sugary fruit rushed over his pallet as he brought his lips to hers and captured them.

"That you do," she agreed wholeheartedly.

"Which is why I want to talk to you about something." Her eyes perked up to him as she nuzzled into his warm body.

Elsa didn't reply other than to open her mouth and plead for another piece of candy. And Hans happily obliged with cherry red jellybean.

"I want to buy a house. For us. All of us," slipping his hand under her shirt and over the bare swell of her 20-week baby bump. Firm and supple. Encasing everything that mattered in his life. _Their_ life.

"Where?" Elsa queried as she chewed the last bit of her jellybean.

"Holmekollen."

"You just want to up and move to one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Oslo?"

"Why not? We can afford it. And the homes are huge. Five, six bedrooms. A big yard to play in. And I know you want to be close to all those cross country trails." Oh and that was so tempting to Elsa.

"You almost had me with the skiing, but we don't need all that room. And I don't want to be that far away from the city. But I do think we need to find something for all three of us."

They both shared a smile at the thought of being a threesome, and saying it never got old. They were now thoroughly swept up in the excitement of it all. "What did you have in mind?" Kissing his idea of a big house in the hills goodbye.

"I want to stay here in Frogner. It's closer to the park and our jobs. And it has that urban vibe I like."

"That sounds fine. Maybe two or three bedrooms?" How easy it was to have these conversations now. Everything seemingly falling into place. Rough edges worn down into smooth understanding over time. Never letting differences tear them apart.

"Perfect."

"With a nursery?" Hans added with bouncing brows.

"Mhmm," Elsa gleamed in return with that maternal glow Hans was quickly becoming addicted to. "You know if we move in together, you're not my kjærste any longer?"

Puzzled by what she meant, Hans furrowed his brows as Elsa's grin spread wider across her gleaming face.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Because it makes you my samboer." From the best smile stretched from ear to ear, Hans could that it was a good thing but that name had never managed to make it on his list of pet names before.

"What does it mean?"

"Partner," Elsa said so sweetly she practically purred it. "But I introduce you as my samboer, it's like I'm saying you're my husband. It's seen as the same."

After making such a big deal about not being married before, Hans was elated that Norway had a built-in term for exactly what he was. More than a boyfriend, but not legally her husband. More importantly, the father of her child.

With that, he dropped the bag of candy and tasted his samboer's candy-coated lips. One day he'd make her his wife, but not for social moral or because it was what he was brought up to think. It would be when they were both ready, for love, and not just because they were having a baby together. And the thought of his tiny children sprinkling crisp white petals down an aisle on that most special day filled Hans with a warmth he'd only felt since he'd known Elsa. Only she could bring him such happiness, and he was now ecstatic to become a father.

"One more week until the gender. I can't wait." Boy or girl, Hans genuinely only hoped for a healthy baby and would gladly accept whatever fate brought them.

"I have names for both, so I'm set." Elsa licked her lips with a candy-stained tongue and smiled contently. "Do you have any?"

"No."

"You're leaving it up to me?"

Hans smiled warmly and caressed her cheek, love seeping out through his fingertips and soaking into her radiant skin like sunshine. "Just promise me one thing," he requested. "You'll pick something Norwegian."

Of all the beautiful little gestures Hans had done, that one fully stole Elsa's breath away, and it took her a few moment to even reply.

"Why?" She asked, sparkling blue eyes locked onto his as his hand followed the curve of her blooming swell.

"Because I'm love with a Norwegian. And I love everything about you and where you're from."

"Everything?" She sassed playfully with a sly grin.

"Everything _you_ show me."

Weeks and months since that serendipitous meeting on the trikk had paved a path to a future that neither could have ever foreseen but were now greatly anticipating. Hans had shed the last of his former self, almost losing everything in the process towards the end; but, through humility and maturity, he found himself more in love with Elsa than ever. She was his family, his everything.

"I promise."

* * *

_So this is probably my final piece of writing for the Frozen fandom. I don't want to shut the door completely, because I don't know what the future will bring. But for now, I'm done. I have a little ray of sunshine coming into my life and I only want to immerse myself in that goodness._

_Most of you reading this, this AN won't even apply to you (Helsa shippers that is). But over the past ten months I've been torn down by this fandom (the Elsanna shippers to be exact). And I can't write anymore with all the awful things I've read about what I ship, myself, or my writing swirling in my head. I don't have the confidence anymore and I'm paralyzed when I go to write. I'm at a really sensitive time in my life and the hate I've received is really upsetting. I've had to delete my fics that had almost 900 followers. And if you've never done that, it hurts like a mother. But I don't give my time and energy to hateful/greedy/jealous shippers._

_I love writing for Frozen and I still have so many stories that I'd love to share. Someday maybe I'll write again. For now, liking Frozen means buying Elsa wipes or jammies for my baby, or just plain old watching the movie. Something healthier than this roller coaster I've been on for almost two years._

_Thank so much to all my supportive readers, especially those who have left reviews that made me smile. I've always said that besides the personal enjoyment I used to get out of writing, my biggest goal was to brighten your day. I hope I've provided you with that little bit of escapism we all need in life, and, for some of you, I know I've done so much more than that. _

_To those of you who have left me hate or made a slanderous remarks about me on here, tumblr, or Reddit; I know you say such things because somewhere along the line you got hurt. And hurting me makes you feel better in some way. I sincerely hope you find peace and healing in your life. That you grow into a person who doesn't need to assert some sort of high ground or tear others down, but learn to raise them up instead. Do unto others as you would for yourself._

_Thank you,_

_Freudianslip13_


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